Little Drummer Boy is the one christmas song that always makes me cry. I�m not sure why, maybe it�s the feeling that you aren�t enough, all you have to offer is your drum, so you play your heart out, giving all that you have to give.
I can�t play the drum. I may have musical talent but I have never really explored it. My fingers move to the beat of music, they might know something that I don�t know. I�m not an artist either. I can see beautiful things with my mind, but I cannot get my hand to cooperate in getting the image to the page. I have horrible hand writing too, damn uncooperative rebellious hands. But one talent I know I possess (and those of you who disagree, please keep your opinions to yourself and call it my christmas present). I can write. I can take words and string them in an eloquent manner, making beauty out of pain.
So that�s where I go, that�s what I do, when the world becomes too much to bear. And the act of putting it on paper, the words that convey what is in my heart, that paint an image, tell a story, share a secret, the act of writing, actually eases the pain. It is sometimes all I have to give to myself and it is enough.
