My dear friend, Joani, is quite accomplished on the drums. She plays most anytime for anyone. Not me. The closest I get to a parum pa pum pum is the pounding of my fingers across the keyboard of the word processor. Between my day job and after hours writing passion, it makes for a common--every day sound. It's almost comforting. Like the ticking of a clock or the hum of a ceiling fan.
It makes me ponder that kid all the more. He saw himself as poor, especially when comparing himself to the Wise Men bringing their fine and costly gifts to the baby Savior. He thought he had nothing to give. Yet, he took comfort in the common-everyday sound of his drum. He came to understand that playing his drum could be a gift when offered as such. It was all he had. It made for a nice little gift. It made the Savior smile. Oh, how I like it.
In the New Year, I hope The Little Drummer Boy continues in my head. Let it be an echo of remembrance. May it help me realize the comfort of the common-everyday things of my life. The sound of fingers on the keyboard or whatever I may have is enough when it is offered as a gift to the Savior.
Maybe that is why Joani is so accomplished on her drums. She feels the Savior smiling. She knows it is enough.
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