Me and My Drum

Christmas time means Christmas music and I love Christmas music! Songs like Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree get ya movin’, while others give you a moment of quiet contemplation like Silent Night. But there is one song that, without fail, makes me cry…. The Little Drummer Boy.

Here are the lyrics without the drum beat, the rum pa pum pums.

Come they told me
A new born king to see
Our finest gifts we bring
To lay before the king
So to honor him
When we come
Little baby,
I am a poor boy too
I have no gift to bring
That’s fit to give our king
Shall I play for you?
Mary nodded
The ox and lamb kept time
I played my drum for him
I played my best for him

Then he smiled at me

Me and my drum

It’s that image of a humble boy who feels like he’s not good enough. He can’t imagine he has anything to offer. I have felt like that so many times. It’s not necessarily that people have made me feel that way, but it’s just that… looking at all of my faults and comparing the amazing things other people do or say, I can’t imagine I have anything worthwhile to contribute. Or sometimes I just feel like it’s not good enough, that I’m not good enough.

Personal appearance, parenting, job performance…. even politics can make us feel like our humble offering isn’t good enough. And it’s hard to put ourselves out there for people to accept or reject, to criticise or compliment. It’s especially hard when we feel like all we have is a simple, insignificant offering — like a little boy playing a drum. Is that really good enough? Is that enough for people to love and accept?

That’s the part that makes me cry:

“Then he smiled at me… me and my drum.”

Yes. You are enough. Your contributions to the world, regardless of how humble, are worth so much more than you realize. Your offering might feel simple, but it can make someone smile. It can also inspire, encourage, uplift, improve, or help in some way. You never know.

So, no matter how poor we may feel, how much we think we lack, our contributions to the world are valued, loved, and important. It doesn’t matter what kind of drum you have.  Sometimes I feel like I’ve got a humble oatmeal container for a drum. It doesn’t matter.

And though I likely won’t ever have choirs of angels to sing my praise, that simple smile on someone’s face is enough for me.


  1. Oh I love your enough. I needed to be told my contribution is enough. Your grandmother’s favorite Christmas song was , Drummer Boy. Her rendition comforts my heart. I can hear her quietly singing the words at the kitcchen sink while tumbling plates and cups in soapy warm water in preparation for the next humble meal. Her contribution was enough also. She has a vast legacy from commited love and service to her family. As the day closes I’m going to celebrate the legacy of enough; her enough, my enough and your enough. Cheers!

    Your enough has enriched my life. Thank you.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I love that beautiful image grandma doing the dishes and humming. It really is the lovely simple things that make life so rich and full.

      Love you!


  2. As I reflected on your message, I found myself looking upon our world today. There’s alot of different voices out there telling us that we’re not enough on our own.

    I’m grateful for your insight inspiring us to see ourselves in the ‘real’ sense of who we are and why we matter. We will always be ‘well-nourished’ as we accept and choose to live principles of positivity and optimism, friendliness and graciousness.

    I’m grateful to you for your voice encouraging and uplifting those within your circle of influence, which, I’m happy to say, includes me.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Aw, this was a very nice post. In idea I would like to put in writing like this additionally – taking time and actual effort to make a very good article… but what can I say… I procrastinate alot and by no means seem to get something done.


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 )

Facebook photo

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

Connecting to %s