“Little Baby, pa, rum, pa, pa, pum. I am a poor boy too, pa, rum, pa, pa, pum. I have no gift to bring, that’s fit to give a king. Shall I play for him? Pa rum pa, pa, pum. On my drum. Then he smiled at me, pa, rum, pa, pa, pum.” 

We may only think of the Little Drummer Boy as one of those overplayed Christmas songs, but there is a lesson for us in giving from the heart. The drummer boy gave the only gift he had, and the baby responded with the only gift he had, a smile.

About two weeks after the collapse of the Twin Towers on September 11, first responders made a decision that there would be no more searching for survivors; only the recovery of bodies. The chaplains had made 400 death calls that day and were understandably depressed. Many of the victims’ families were standing around as close as they could get to Ground Zero. Angry and sad. United in their loss but isolated in their own misery. It started raining and the chaplains tried to get all these people to go home, but they wouldn’t budge.

A teenage girl showed up at the site and asked if she could play her violin. She started to play sweet music while her friend held an umbrella to protect her from the rain. The chaplains asked if she could play “How Great Thou Art.” She was agreeable to having them sing a bit of it and soon she was playing faultlessly. Still the people stayed and still they were absorbed in their own thoughts.

A moment later the girl started playing the strains of one of the most commonly known hymns in the world, “Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound that saved and set me free. I once was lost and now I’m found, was blind but now I see.” As the song continued, people loosened up and began to move toward each other to give and receive comfort. Because this girl gave the only gift she had to give, these people were able to begin to move from inconsolable grief toward healing and comfort. She facilitated a miracle.

Just as the girl with the violin gave the gift of comfort by sharing her talents, the Little Drummer Boy gave all he had to give.

I heard this story a few years ago at a holiday luncheon with my older daughter. We dressed up in our favorite holiday finery and the room was festive. If you’re like me there are certain traditions that move you to start shopping, decorating, or party planning. This lunch sets me on the path of seasonal joy and giving.

Whatever we celebrate—Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Diwali, Winter Solstice—this season is about giving. You notice I said giving, not receiving. The heart of this season is the need for the giver to give, more than the desire of the recipient to receive. These are some of my experiences of giving from the heart. 

During the luncheon we were also asked to share our most memorable or favorite Christmas gift. Over the years, I’m sure we each have hundreds of gifts that we have received from many different people. Could you choose your favorite or most memorable gift?

I knew right away the answer to that question. It was really a series of small gifts that occurred in the same year. The year I divorced, I had to regroup to honor my financial commitments and there wasn’t any money left for Christmas shopping or entertaining. I held an annual party for my friends who were alone. We had all come to expect that gathering of souls, but I couldn’t see how it was going to happen that year. One evening my younger daughter came over with a bag of sugar and a carton of milk. She had heard me say I needed those things to bake some cookies. Now who would get excited about sugar and milk, some of the staples of life? I did! Because she heard and responded directly to a need. It was probably the most awesome gift of my life and it brought me to tears because of her thoughtfulness.

Later I received a Christmas card from my pastor. I’d been a music minister over 30 years and was always a volunteer. Here for the first time, I received a small stipend, $25, but it felt like a thousand that year. Along with some gift certificates from my employer and another small gift from a friend who had attended my parties, I was able to have my annual Christmas gathering. These friends gave me what they had to give and their generosity enabled me to give what I had to give—the gift of hospitality. That year provided me with some of my most treasured gifts.

What was your most memorable gift? What is your equivalent of a violin, drum, sugar, or hospitality? What do you have to give from your heart? I hope that you will take the time to think about what unique talents you have to offer. What can you give to this dark time of expectancy that will lighten the load for someone and will help to usher in the true joy and celebration of this holiday season? We all have something special to offer. Someone is waiting for what you can give. 

  1. What gift can you give from your heart? 
  2. Will you recognize the heartfelt gifts that may come your way?