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
I am a poor boy too
I have no gift to bring
That’s fit to give our king
Shall I play for you?
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.