This Little Light of Mine

The Littlest Gift

by Larry VanHoose

You may have heard me say it before, but I wasn’t raised in a so-called Christian home. It wasn’t that we were bad people per se, but our focus was more on “working hard so we could have fun on the weekend” type of life. When I was a very young, we were dirt-floor poor, so as our family’s economic situation improved, we moved naturally into the flow of pursuing pleasure for pleasure’s sake. But once a year, for about four or five weeks, something almost magical happened to my family. Each year, beginning around Thanksgiving, we’d all start looking forward to our annual family Christmas get-together to be held at our home. Nearly all the extended family would come, and in addition to the inevitable feast engineered by the ladies of the clan, my mama would always come up with some silly activities that would get us all together for a couple hours of fun and laughter. Mama was also the queen of yard sale treasure hunting, so with a little help gift wrapping from my sister and me, the giving of presents for everyone, and I mean everyone, commenced with very little ceremony but with much excitement, especially for the littles. It was that one time of year when I saw for myself just how much better it was to give than receive as Mama would have my sister and me hand out the individually wrapped and labeled presents to my cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents. She’d even manage to have a few blank-labeled, extra presents handy in the event an unexpected friend or long-lost relative happened to show up. No one was to be left out! Truthfully, our extended family would never have been thought of as even middle-class, so it was with much anticipation and gratitude that most of them received those gently-used presents my mama so tirelessly searched for at yard sales and bargain store closeouts throughout the year. When you have 40 – 50 family members to buy for, giving a little something fun and thoughtful was a huge undertaking, but it was a tradition that my mama embraced and one my sister and I both enjoyed being a part. Another Christmas season tradition that had an impact on me as a young boy—the watching of Christmas-themed animated TV shows! Each year we’d gather around our giant walnut console Zenith television with the "huge" 17-inch screen, and eagerly await the annual broadcast of animated classics like Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, and Frosty the Snowman. My favorite though, was one that not everyone appreciates—one that even annoys some folks (which I find mystifying)—the one known as The Little Drummer Boy. I'd just turned seven the first time I saw it, when it was released in 1968, and every year thereafter I’ve

tried to watch even a few minutes of this simple, yet charming and heartwarming tale. So, what captured my heart from this silly little story based on a silly little Christmas song, one that some say is just an annoying repetition of the not-even-real words, “pa rum pum pum pum”? Remember now, that at that time I really didn’t have any real idea of who Jesus was, just that he was some little baby that was supposedly born thousands of years ago on Christmas and was the reason we got presents. As a young boy, that was all the was really important after all, wasn’t it? But was it? As I said, each year I’d sit as close to the TV as my folks would let me, sometimes closer, and be totally mesmerized for 25 minutes by the simple message portrayed by that poor little boy with his pitiful little drum. Who was he? Why was he alone at night? Where was his parents? Did he have a home? And why did he play the drum "... our focus was more for the newborn baby? So many questions on “working hard so we brought on by such a simple little song and show. But even with all my questions, the could have fun on the one message that played loud and clear to weekend” type of life." my heart was, that all the little boy had to give, even in the presence of wise men and shepherds, and Joseph and Mary, all that he had to give this newborn king of kings, was the gift of “pa rum pum pum pum” rhythm from his worn out little drum. And yet it was enough. And for me, each year when the song and story got to the part where the Baby Jesus smiled at the boy and his drum, my heart would seemingly leap up from my chest and come gushing out my eyes. Jesus, the coming king, accepted his gift, accepted him, a poor little boy with nothing to give except a small part of himself. Even though I did not fully realize who Jesus was, I could never deny the impact that song or those words had on this little boy’s heart. Years later, when I came to know and understand Jesus much more personally, I began to realize how he used the little drummer’s story to draw me to himself. A well-known verse from the Bible emphasizes his love for all God’s children, even when we are young and don’t fully comprehend... “Jesus said, ‘Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these’ (Matthew 19:14, NIV).” As this Christmas season draws near, I hope that we will all remember the message that God expressed so wonderfully through Christ and the gift of his love and life, but also through that silly little story that touched my heart and still holds its place there—that it truly is better to give than receive, and that nothing done out of love—and sacrifice—is too little.