The Little Drummer Boy

Come they told me

Our new born king to see

Baby Jesus

I am a poor boy too

I have no gift to bring

that’s fit to give our king

shall I play for you

on my drum


Mary nodded

the ox and lamb kept hum

I played my drum for him

I played my best for him

Then he smiled at me

me and my drum

me and my drum.

This Christmas season I have been reflecting much on the story of the little drummer boy and how these past few months I have felt much like him. I was listening to a Christmas CD and the song of the little drummer boy played. It struck me in a way it never had before. I’ve always known what it meant, but for the first time listening to it, I felt I really understood it. So here’s how I’ve lived the story of the little drummer boy:

Come He told me

There are many people to be loved

In Monte Sinai

I am just a girl

What gift can I bring

that’s fit to last

I have only my heart to share


I hear Him say yes

and so I went

to give my heart to them

I give my best

and I can see His smile in theirs

all it takes is love

just me and my love.

Just as the little boy felt, I often feel I can and should be giving more. That what I am giving is not enough. But this story reminds us that we, just as we are, that is enough. No gold, frankensense or myrrh could make a better gift than the gift of ourselves. While here, I have wished I could give so much more to the many families, women and children I have come to know both at work and in my neighborhood. But I’ve seen so many smiles among them and their laughs that have been music to my heart. I have heard their testaments of their faith and seen it all in action. I’ve heard how their beliefs hold them through any hardships and fill in all the cracks. That it continues to give them hope and makes their hearts full and lives overflowing with love. I’ve danced and sang and prayed and ate and shared many stories with them. And through all of these simple things I have found Christ in them each day. Like the little drummer boy, I have felt limited and unsure of what my purpose is. But also like the boy, I have found that what matters most is the love I bring. A few days ago, Liz and I visited a neighbor who has 93 years of age and has lost her eyesight. Most times when I have visited her, she has begun to cry, saying she is sad she cannot know our faces, only our voices. In a similar way, she did the same. But then she thanked us for visiting her, a woman with nothing left to give. I remembered her mentioning another time that when she had a place of her own and had her eyesight she would have given us something to drink, something to eat and would have had a nicer home we could visit her in. But of course, I don’t care whether she welcomes us into a nice home where we are offered cola and maybe some food or she welcomes us as she lays in her hammock as the day goes by. She is right, she doesn’t have anything left to give. But that day Liz and I sang to her and her grandchildren found us from wherever they were and joined in. At one point Liz and I were singing downstairs and the kids were singing upstairs and we were loud and singing in different languages. And she began to laugh and she smiled at us and thanked us for our voices. She takes my face and kisses my cheeks and smiles at me. I couldn’t have hoped for anything more.

I give my heart to them


And there I find Him in them


Merry Christmas!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s