We all know the story of the Little Drummer Boy. I love the line in that carol that goes “…I played my best for him, Berump, pah, pah, pum Berump, pah, pah, pumBerump, pah, pah, pum Me and my drum.” I remember that as a child, I used to envision the little drummer boy, face pinched in concentration, coaxing a song of praise out his drum. With precise timing and unflagging passion, he meted out a beat of worship and adoration. I also imagined that after the little drummer boy had given his all, his very best, he then found a haystack and collapsed in a joyful heap. He had given his all for the newborn king and was rewarded with a smile. He had brought the most precious gift he could offer – himself – and was found acceptable.