Starting
Point The
night the drummer boy visited
By KEVIN MURRAY
I cant forget my first stage
production. I was in the fourth grade and decided to take the bold step of
signing up for the Christmas chorus. Each day we would practice after school
under the direction of our music teacher, Mr. Stanley.
I never missed a practice, until one day when Mr. Stanley came
asking if Id like to play the drummer boy. I was elated and immediately
said, Yes! What will I have to do?
Nothing, came the response. Just stand there and
hold the drum.
Will I still be in the chorus?
No, Mr. Stanley said. We just need you to stand
on stage.
A few years later, I found out that I was selected because I
couldnt carry a tune! Nonetheless, I have fond memories of the moment and
-- as the years have passed -- I consider myself rather fortunate to play
someone who had nothing more to bring to Jesus than his drum.
A few nights before this past Christmas, I sang with a different
chorus. It was a Thursday night, and we had just finished a meal with our
guests at the ministry (some would call it a soup kitchen) where I work. A few
guests, as is their custom, stayed behind. We talked a bit, then before we knew
it, we were belting out Amazing Grace, O Come All Ye
Faithful, O Holy Night and other familiar tunes as we sat
around a Christmas tree our guests had decorated.
Then one of the fellas, Derrick, asked if we could sing The
Little Drummer Boy. In a few moments, we were
pa-rumpa-pa-pumming. As we sang the last note, a new chorus began:
Thats what its all about, said one. Then another,
Yeah, he had no gift but himself. And, Just like us,
was heard around the room.
At that moment, I felt as if I was at a Christmas liturgy. Before
we began another song, there was a meditation, some quiet, then an expression
of faith.
You know, said Calvin, the rich people
dont have it this good tonight. Theyre probably out there finishing
up their shopping, wrapping presents and wondering about whos gonna get
what. But us, we dont have to worry about that. Weve got each
other, and thats enough.
Living in the hood, as we sometimes call it, offers a rare
glimpse of life. If I never walk into another department store, Ill be
happy. I used to love to do so before Christmas when I lived in New York. There
was fun in the adventure, but it saddens me to think that the spirit of
Christmas has so often been reduced to window-dressings.
Anyone who looked in our window the night The Little Drummer
Boy visited would not have seen much by way of merchandise. The only
displays were our songs and smiles. The laughter that came from story after
story filled the night with joy -- a redeeming joy, echoing Gods
love.
As what I had come to see as our liturgy concluded, we stood and
offered each other an embrace. Its a sign we often call peace in the
church. We hugged and laughed, and that was enough.
Ill never forget that night. A Holy Night,
indeed, where the stars -- our guests -- were brightly shining.
Redemptorist Fr. Kevin Murray writes from Philadelphia, where
he helps at Sarnelli House, the base for Redemptorist Volunteer Ministries.
Guests from the streets are invited each Thursday to share food and company.
National Catholic Reporter, February 11,
2000
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