Pa Rum Pa Pum Pum

Hoping that my best is worthy

I can’t remember a December in my life not filled with Christmas songs. I heard them when I played Baby Jesus (though I certainly don’t remember that performance). I sang them in church throughout Advent. I sang them in choirs and solos for decades. And in the recent years when my choral banner was stuffed away in a closet, I still sang songs at home, in the car, at church…

Music is synonymous with Christmastime in my soul.

Admittedly, not all Christmas songs are equal in my mind. One of the songs that I have merely tolerated over the years is “Little Drummer Boy.”

It’s fine. It’s fun to sing the Pa rum pa pum pums. But it’s just about this kid who plays a drum in a stable. It seems a little weird. (Granted I imagine a kid in high school drumline gear, and that doesn’t sit well with my sense of aesthetics.)

Currently, one of the albums I have on repeat is The Best of Pentatonix Christmas. Beautiful, fun, nostalgic—I so enjoy these songs. One of the songs is “Little Drummer Boy.” The album’s version is as beautiful as the song can get; it is restful and thoughtful with a percussive undercurrent.

As I was driving the other day, it came on. For some reason, I listened closer than usual. I know every single word, but the way Pentatonix performs the song truly is special.

Then came the line, “I played my best for him.”

That line, sung in that way, struck something deep in my heart.

“Then He smiled at me, pa rum pa pum pum, me and my drum.”

Y’all, I cried.

Because isn’t that what we all want on some level? We want to do our best—be our best—and then have someone who matters to us acknowledge and affirm us. Those handful of lines that I’ve skimmed over for decades have taken on a new importance in my mind. They are the embodiment of one of the deepest human wishes.

Knitting Gift Gifts

I think that’s one of the reasons we knitters make gifts for those who matter to us. We want to make something to the best of our ability. Then we want the recipient to acknowledge our effort and appreciate it for what it is. (And hopefully they’ll also like and use the item we made for them.)

Knitting a gift for a loved one almost always is less convenient than simply buying the same product from a store. The time, effort, and experience we knit into each item is part of the gift we offer. In fact, hand-made presents are so special, I think knitted pieces shouldn’t just be called “gifts,” they should be called Gift Gifts.

I doubt that moniker will catch on, but we makers know how special a hand-knit gift is.

Unfortunately for my loved ones, there won’t be many of those under the tree this year. Not because I don’t love and value my family—I simply don’t have much extra knitting time these days. (And I didn’t plan very well.)

It brings to mind the meme….

How many Gift Gifts have you knit this year?

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Surprise Discounts!

If you are still trying to get some last-minute gifts or ornaments done, I’ve just added two quick-knit patterns to my Ravelry and Etsy shops. I can’t believe two whole years have passed since my first patterns floated out into the world!

As a celebration of my being able to share them in my own shops, I’m having a

75% OFF SALE

on these two patterns—the Whomping Willow Warmer and the Diamonds in Snow Sweater Ornament—through the end of the year. They are fun, quick, and have lots of options!

On Ravelry, use code GIFTGIFT. On Etsy, the sale price is automatic.

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For more of Mountain Song Designs around the internet…

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