The Little Drummer Boy lives on

You may have heard the Christmas story/legend of the Little Drummer Boy, my friends. It goes something like this: A poor little drummer boy travels to the manger in Bethlehem the night of Christ’s birth. There are Kings and Wise Men there, giving gifts worth unimaginable monetary value. But the little drummer boy has nothing of meaningful material value with him. He is far too poor. So he plays his drum, instead. The baby turns his head and smiles, not at those who bring gifts of extravagant wealth, but at the little drummer boy.

I have accumulated a vast storehouse of evidence that rails against the somewhat common myth that most children are intrinsically selfish. To the contrary, over the course of 30 years and 2,000 children (nearly 10,000 if you count all the nature hikes on which I took various children), I saw countless little human beings who were so caring and giving and sharing that they would put many an adult saint you care to name to shame.

Most of my friends know I dress up as Santa each year and visit the homes of needy families, the homeless, and the lonely elderly in Bristol. I bring food, clothing, educational toys and games, books and vouchers to have pets spayed/neutered/vaccinated; seeking to meet whatever needs a family may have. Each family is unique, yes, but I generally know their individual needs beforehand (which is a great advantage to this Santa).

One year, when visiting a family who lived in a place so poor they had a dirt floor (yes, we have those here in Bristol), a little girl heard her father graciously thank me, but tell me that he wished I’d go to someone more needy, that they were fine. (Her father didn’t say this with a mean spirit at all, but with an honest and giving heart.)

The little girl had disappeared while I was talking to her father. Upon her return, she smashed a tiny piggy bank on the floor. Stooping down, she then raised up with not a coin missing from her two little hands. Walking toward me, she said, “Will you please give this to the poor, Mr. Talley?”

Dear Lord, why do we not build monuments to honor such selfless souls among us?