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It’s the time of year when the news from our county correspondents is full of details about Christmas activities. De c ember is jam packed with community dances, concerts, ba za a r s, wreath making workshops, breakfasts with Santa, dinners and carol sings It all sounds very festive and fun, but a little bit exhausting.
Often our correspondents will write about children’s Advent activities, in particular the children’s and youth choirs putting on Christmas cantatas. And that really takes me back to a time in my life when Christmas didn’t seem so draining.
Growing up in Trinity United Methodist Church, I joined the junior choir at a very young age. My mother was in the adult choir and had a very beautiful voice. I guess people thought that since I was her daughter, I’d have her same vocal talent. I can carry a tune, but I never became the singer she was.
When I was 11 years old, Trinity’s junior choir readied a cantata called “The Drum.” And let me tell you, some days I can’t remember where I put my checkbook, but I can remember so much about that particular cantata.
As the title of the cantata suggests, “The Drum” told the story of The Little Drummer Boy, who never actually appeared in any of the gospels – just in the fictitious yuletide tune made popular by The Harry Simeone Chorale. In the song, a poor boy is summoned by the Magi to play his drum for the Christ child.
I have never had a child, but I cannot imagine thinking a kid playing a drum for a baby would be an appropriate gift as drum playing by kids tends to be loud. I had cousins who got drum sets for Christmas. They were not quiet.
In this production of “The Drum,” our petite percussionist was Doug Johnson. Doug and I had been friends since kindergarten. His family lived across the street from me and he and his big brother Chris were my first friends.
Doug was short for his age with expressive blue eyes and a head of curly blond locks. In the storyline of “The Drum,” the boy meets up with a fellow traveler, played with zest by Robert Rorrer. Robert was in high school and we thought he was the coolest guy just because high school seemed like a place for cool people. And he didn’t seem to mind hanging out with a bunch of elementary and middle school kids.
I played an angel, along with Susan Brown and Cindy Smith. The angel costumes were easy. We just wore the white cassocks from our choir robes. Robert’s younger brother Kirk was one of the shepherds, along with Scott Morris and my cousin Jeremy Leadbetter. The shepherd’s costumes were cobbled together from bath robes and assorted remnants from our mothers’ home sewing projects.
Our director was Dorothy Perkins, whom we absolutely adored, and not because she gave us ice cream after choir practice. She was so sweet and I still have a Holly Hobby figurine she gave me for Christmas when I was in second grade.
We rehearsed the cantata for weeks, probably beginning around Halloween. The angels had it easy. All we had to do was sing “Gloria in excelsis.” The shepherds were pretty much mute, tending invisible sheep before the church’s altar where the stage was set. We understood that the spotlight was on Doug and Robert. We did get to sing along to the cantata’s show-stopping number, “When the Messiah Comes.” To this day, I can remember the lyrics. “When the Messiah comes, there will be feasting and joy. There will be music and dancing, dancing to the harp and the timbrel. Dancing to the music of the harp and the timbrel, harp and the timbrel, harp and the timbrel, harp and timbrel, harp and timbrel, ah!”
During the performance, the congregation sat silent as Doug sang “The Little Drummer Boy.” In reality, a postpartum woman like Mary would probably not be so thrilled when a kid with a drum asked, “Shall I play for you?” But the way Doug sang it, he made the query sound so endearing one could imagine Mary collapsing in tears upon hearing it and nodding in the affirmative.
