Little Drummer Boy-My Fiction Take


“Come,” they told me, pa rum pum  pum pum.

A new born King to see, pa rum pum pum.

I’ve been walking so long; I don’t remember when we left.  The dust on my feet now joined by blisters and cuts.  I want to ride a donkey, but we’re using them to haul gifts.  I wasn’t sure of our destination at first.  I overheard my parents talking about a star…and a King.  They told me to catch up with them as they were headed out, so I went home, grabbed my drum off the ground, and hurried down the road after them.

And now, after more months than I can count, we’re almost there.  I hear the chatter pick up all around me, the electricity buzzing in the air.  A King….we’re about to see a King!

I’ve never seen royalty before.  As poor as my family is, I never thought I’d get to meet anyone who wore a crown.  Maybe he’ll let me play for him?  But how can I, dressed in tattered clothes?  I lost myself in the excitement, but the embarrassment about who I am suddenly crashes down on me.  I’m dirty, poor, ragged. I’ve done nothing to deserve this meeting.  Maybe I’ll hide in the back…content with a glimpse of him.

I have no gift to bring, pa rum pum pum pum.

That’s fit to give a King, pa rum pum pum pum.

I hear someone say we’ve arrived, but that can’t be true.  All I see is a barn, all I smell are animals.  This can’t be it.  But the rumors are confirmed by others around me…the King, the deliverer…is here.

My heart races inside of my chest.  I follow a small group of people as we walk inside the barn and into a tiny stable.  There, sitting before me in the hay…a lady, a man, and a baby.  I feel like crying.  I feel like shouting.  I feel like dancing.  I feel like kneeling.  I do none of these.

I just stand there…happy.

I look at the woman, not much older than myself.  She looks sweet.  She eyes the small drum hanging from a strap on my shoulder, and without a word, nods her head in my direction.  I understand.  So instead of dancing, instead of kneeling…my shaking hands find rhythm…and I play.

I played my drum for him, pa rum pum pum pum.

I played my best for him, pa rum pum pum pum.

It seemed like slow motion, yet everything happened so fast.  My song is done.  I hope he liked it….it’s all that I had to give.  Now I don’t know what to do.  Should I turn and run, should I play again, should I apologize for a gift unfit for such an occasion?  The night is silent…the air, chilled.  I search the face of the baby, the savior that is my King.

Then, He smiled at me, pa rum pum pum pum,

Me and my drum.     

I never want to stop playing for him.


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