Not many things make me cry.
Boys don’t cry after all. When I
was a toddler, of course, but you learn after a while … So in real life, generally no. But songs and movies – art can make me cry as
reality can’t. When the frozen people
come back to life in Awakenings,
having lost so many years to Parkinson’s, that made me cry. Interesting that it should be the awakening
that gets me going rather than the suffering that preceded it.
It is with crying perhaps like revolutions. It’s at the moment of reform that people see
the waste and suffering that has gone before, and they revolt – or cry.
Are crying and revolution just too different sorts of
responses to the same thing?
But I am here to talk about The Little Drummer Boy. It’s associated with something that isn’t my
holiday, but it’s a nice holiday. I
don’t mind it. Not like Easter, full of
death and passion, transmuted in centuries past into revenge upon my
people. Which is odd in a way because
it’s done in the name of a member of my people.
But that’s another story.
Christmas is a friendly holiday, full of tidings of joy, and
very nice Christmas carols. Growing up
in a Christian country, even if you’re not a Christian, it’s impossible not to
hear the Christmas carols. In fact, I
even sang Christmas carols: in our school, our Protestant school, which is
where little Jewish children would go in my day (it’s a long story). We sang Hark the Herald Angels and Silent
Night and Little Town of Bethlehem. Very
nice songs. Not like the modern
commercial stuff.
The Little Drummer Boy I don’t think was one of those we
sang in school. It’s not actually a
traditional carol; it’s from 1941. But
it has the air of a carol, though in fact it hardly seems to be about Christmas
at all. Yes, the baby Jesus is in it,
but almost as a secondary character. As
its title indicates, the song is really about The Little Drummer Boy, a poor
boy who seems to think of himself as inadequate, who thinks he has no gift to
offer to the newborn King. But he’s
urged to go along anyway; if he has no gift, then he can play his drum.
I envisage the whole scene, the little drummer boy feeling
bad, saying, “I can’t go. I have nothing
to bring.” But hesitantly and more
confidently, after Mary nods at him and the animals help him out, he goes
on. Does what he can – and the baby
smiles at him. It’s all worthwhile, it
all works out, he offers the talent he has, and it’s accepted. It makes me cry. Cry for a world where people are accepted for
what they are, for what they have to offer, and not judged for their
shortcomings.
My girl-friend says this is the message of Christianity, but
I don’t see it in a Christian guise.
It’s a story about being allowed to do what you do. Even if you can’t throw the touchdown pass or
run the big company, that’s all right.
Everyone has their own talent, and if only they can get a chance to use
it …
Anyway, it’s a nice song, a haunting song, and it always
brings tears to my eyes.
Here’s a nice version of it:
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