The story of the birth of Jesus is so full of wonder. It stirs the imagination. At times, that imagination runs wild, as the following examples show:
• As a babe in the cradle, Jesus spoke words understandable to the adults around Him. He defended Mary, who bore Him as a virgin mother, against those who accused her of unchastity.
• Animals speak with human voices each year at midnight on Christmas Eve, acknowledging the newborn Son of God.
• A crippled lad named Amahl joins the Kings on their pilgrimage when he is healed by faith after hearing their story of the Child they seek. His story is told in Gian Carlo Minotti’s one-act opera, Amahl and the Night Visitors.
Another child who shows up at the stable, through the power of our imagination, is a little boy who brings his drum and wants to play for Baby Jesus.
This lad is the central figure in the song, “The Little Drummer Boy.” Several different people have been credited as writers of the lyrics and music: Katherine K. Davis, Harry Simone, Jack Halloran, and Henry Onorati. It is said to have been written in its present form in 1941. However, it was not recorded and released to the public until 1958.* In the half-century or so since it was recorded, the song has found its niche among Christmas songs with enduring popularity.
Told in first person by the drummer, each line of the story is enveloped in verbal representations of drumbeats: the highly repetitious “rum-a-pum-pum.”
In the first stanza, the boy is invited to join others who are bringing their finest gifts as they go to see the Newborn King. They plan to lay their gifts at His feet as their means of honoring Him.
Self-conscious about having nothing tangible to offer the mother on behalf of her Son, the boy, in the second stanza, asks whether he might play his drum.
The third and final stanza tells the responses from Mary and the Baby as the lad plays his drum:
Mary nods approval. As he plays, the ox and lamb wag their tails, keeping time to the rhythm. The boy plays his drum, offering the Newborn King his best licks. As the sound of the drum reaches the Baby’s ears, He seems to look toward the sound and smile at the boy and his drum.
There is a profound thought here which should not be drowned out by the rum-a-pum-pums.
Let us use our imagination:
The drummer is at the manger, almost hidden from view by the regal Kings from the East. He is self-conscious as they place their gold, frankincense, and myrrh on the ground before the Baby.
His drum is strapped around his neck, always ready to play. But he has absolutely nothing to place alongside the costly gifts from the Kings, nothing he can offer the little Baby King.
As the boy thinks it over, he is relieved that he has nothing. Anything he has ever owned in
his whole life would look shoddy by comparison. He wonders what led him here in the first place. Just then, the woman looks his way. He doesn’t know her thoughts amid the strange and wonderful happenings tonight. As the boy looks around, he feels he is no more out of place than those ragged, dirty, smelly shepherds who have gathered around, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, as they look at the Baby and His parents. It’s the Kings who make the drummer uneasy. And the Baby they call King.
Earlier, he heard the shepherds talking among themselves -- about angels and bright lights on the hillside beyond the little town of Bethlehem, how the angels told them to come to town and hunt this Baby whose coming is good news to everyone, for shepherds and, perhaps, he thought, even for a boy with a drum.
With all the to-do of the Kings, dressed in their elaborate robes as they bring expensive presents, the lad isn’t sure what he should do or could do. Maybe he ought to slip away quietly and play his drum to himself as he heads for home.
He loves to play his drum, and he’s been told, lots of times, he’s good with it. Oh, sometimes his mother gets on him for playing so loudly while she’s cooking and doing housework. When that happens, he drifts out along the dirt road of the village, playing his drum as he goes. That’s when he gets lots of compliments. An old man down the street has helped him learn different rhythms. A couple of times, the old man even let him keep time on his drum when some other men were playing their lyres and pipes. That helped him gain confidence.
At the manger, as he’s wondering whether he should leave, a thought flashes through his mind: He does have one thing he could offer the Little King. He could play his drum. But then, he thinks; the woman and man might frown and tell him to stop the noise and get out of their way, just like his mother when she wants some peace and quiet. Well, should he offer to play, or not?
Yes.
No.
Yes.
No.
Yes!
The man and woman look up at the shepherds and the Kings and then right at him.
Now’s his chance. So he asks, hurriedly: “Shall-I-play-for-you-and-your-little-boy? On-my-drum-I-mean.”
The man smiles. The woman nods her head, as if to say, “Go ahead.”
So he starts playing, playing with all his might. One or two of the shepherds join him, slapping their knees and bellies as he does some special licks he learned from the old man down the street. He plays and plays, giving it his very best. Everybody in the stable seems to be in rhythm. A passerby stops to look in, then starts snapping his fingers, trying to keep up with the drummer. Feet are tapping. Even one of the Kings is patting his hands together.
For moments, the boy forgets where he is as he pours himself into his rhythms. Then he happens to glance down at the Baby. “He’s looking at me! He’s looking at me!” the boy thinks. “Can you believe it? He’s smiling! The Little King is smiling. He’s smiling at me! He likes my drum!”
Then he stops playing. Everyone is silent. Nobody moves or says anything for several seconds.
Then he hears applause. People gather around him, patting him on the back.
“Great rhythm.”
“Good show.”
“How long you been playin’?” one of the shepherds asks.
The drummer is speechless. He feels almost outside himself as he continues looking at the Little King and His parents. As the others drift into the night, the Drummer still stands, still looking in awe at the family in the stable.
Finally, he puts his sticks into his belt and turns to go. But then, he feels a firm hand on his shoulder. He looks up into the kind, steady eyes of the man. “Thank you, young man. Thank you very much.”
“Oh, no,” the boy says. “Thank you, sir. Thank you for letting me play for your little boy.”
As the woman begins wrapping the Baby more securely in the wide bands of cloth, she, too, thanks the drummer. “That was so special. Thank you for coming to see us tonight. When he’s old enough to understand, we will tell our son what you did.”
“I wish I had something I could leave with you.”
“Oh, you do. You do. You’ve given something special. You gave us a memory we will long cherish. The sound of your rhythms will linger in our minds longer than you imagine. You gave him a truly unique gift, something only you could give.”
Those words ring in the drummer’s ears as he starts for home.
His fingers tap rhythms almost silently on the drumhead as he walks briskly through the chill night air. He smiles to himself as he says over and over, “The Little Baby King smiled at me. He smiled at me. He smiled at me and my drum.”
Whether we have the wealth of the Three Kings, the simple possessions of the shepherds, or nothing but the inner resources of the Little Drummer Boy, if we offer our best, we will see the smile of the King.
St. Paul described the spirit of early Christians in Macedonia. As he urged churches to make an offering to some people in need, he had thought the Macedonians were too poor to contribute to this cause. But they surprised him:
For they gave according to their means, as I can testify, and beyond their means, of their own free will, begging us earnestly for the favor of taking part in the relief of the saints -- and this, not as we expected, but first they gave themselves to the Lord and to us by the will of God (2 Corinthians 8:3-5).
The Macedonians gave as they did because first they gave themselves to the Lord. This is what the drummer did as he played for the Newborn King.
At Christmas and all through the year, if we give unselfishly of our talents, our time, our love, we will hear Jesus say what He said as an adult to people who gave freely of whatever they had in order to meet human need:
Well done, good and faithful servant (Matthew 25:21).
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