Down through the tedious ages of time man's heart has been cheered at the thought of the boundless love of God, and in his soul there has often been touched a responsive chord to that wonderful love. So compelling is this love that it is often felt by the most unfortunate and seemingly hopeless of mortals. Some years ago after the patient in a certain room in one of the mental institutions of our land had found release from his pathetic earthly sojourn, and his room was being readied for another unfortunate occupant, the attendants found scrawled on the walls of the room the following profound lines:
"Could we with ink the ocean fill, and were the skies of parchment made; Were every stalk on earth a quill, And every man a scribe by trade: To write the love of God above Would drain the ocean dry, Nor could the scroll contain the whole Though stretched from sky to sky."
In his saner moments this poor, troubled soul had poured out his simple heart of love to his God.
In the ensuing years these lines were often quoted, and many hearts were touched. Early in the twentieth century an additional two stanzas and chorus, with a simple melody, were written by F. M. Lehman, using the foregoing as a climax in the third stanza. The melody was harmonized by his daughter, Mrs. W. W. Mays. It was nearly twenty years later that the song first "caught fire," and people in all walks of life began singing it.
But always there were inquiries about "that third stanza," and though the story of its origin never failed to make a solemn and heart-stir ring impression, many continued to feel that the language of those lines indicated a source even beyond that, perhaps somewhere in the dim and hoary past. They felt that the lines had only been quoted by the inmate in the story.
After endless searching in libraries someone decided to ask a Jewish rabbi—perhaps he would have a clue. The rabbi listened intently to the words, and quietly replied, "Yes, I can tell you who the author of those lines is. Rabbi Hertz, chief rabbi in the British Empire at one time, wrote a book entitled A Book of Jewish Thought. Go to a Jewish bookstore, and on page 213 you will find that this poem was writ ten in A.D. 1050 by a Jewish poet, Meir Ben Isaac Nehorai." It is in the hymnology of the synagogue used for the Feast of Weeks (Pentecost).
We can imagine this poet standing on the shores of the Mediterranean Sea, contemplating the great love of his Jehovah. His heart is moved by the fires of inspiration. As the love of God sweeps over Meir Ben Isaac Nehorai's soul, his imagination fills the ocean with ink, the arching skies seem to magnify the scope of this all-compelling love, and the papyrus marsh comes to life with countless scribes writing ceaselessly and tirelessly about the measureless love of God.
Nehorai's love epic lay dormant through succeeding centuries. But Providence watched over and preserved these memorable lines. Yes, the third stanza of "The Love of God" was written by a Jewish poet in A.D. 1050. Time passed, then God put it into the heart of a Gen tile song writer, F. M. Lehman, whose heart also responded to God's love, to add the two stanzas and chorus in our own day, in Pasadena, California, in 1917.
Story from Ministry Magazine.
Let's be honest, most of us have at some point watched "The Little Drummer Boy" and if you are like some of us you probably watch it just about every Christmas. It is the telling of the greatest story ever told but told through a young boy who is bitter at the world. This young child experiences the true meaning and reason for Christmas! Yet have you ever wondered where the moving song that the entire cartoon is built around came from? Wonder no more!
The Little Drummer Boy
Katherine Davis lived eighty-eight years and during that time wrote more than one thousand pieces of music. A piano teacher at Wellesley College, her work as a composer would earn her an honorary doctorate from Stetson University and a writing award from the American society of composers, artists, and publishers. Yet while thousands of choirs performed Davis’s cantatas, while millions have heard her choral anthems, she is best remembered today for a single song – a very simple carol penned in the months preceding World War II.
Katherine Davis was born in 1892 in St. Joseph, Missouri. Katherine so loved music that from childhood she saw the world in melody and verse. A student of history, Davis spent time learning both American and European folk music. Combined with the choral anthems she sang in church and school, these influences led to Katherine’s developing a musical style that was rich in content and harmonization. So unique and accomplished were her original pieces that, while she was still a young woman, Davis earned the praise of a host of music publishers and critics. She also grew used to hearing choirs sing her best work.
Driven to penning as many as two or three songs a week, Davis was constantly searching for new inspiration. She read the Bible, history books, and even children’s fairy tales. She especially was drawn to folk legends. She even adapted several of these into songs and musical plays. It was probably in an ancient European story that she uncovered the inspiration for what would become her most beloved work.
There are many French and English folktales concerning gifts given to the baby Jesus. These touching stories of poor people sharing what little they had to celebrate and honor the Lord’s birth have been passed down for hundreds of years. Yet in the Great Depression, these tales of seemingly unworthy gifts given from the heart being magnified into something wondrous meant more than they ever before had. In a world where tens of millions couldn’t even afford to buy a Christmas card, a gift from the heart was now all they had to offer their friends and families.
There can be little doubt that Katherine understood the suffering that was all around her. She no doubt witnessed poor children peering through toy-shop windows at the same time fathers and mothers were being forced to make presents out of leftover pieces of twine, wood, and ribbon. She had to wonder if these handmade gifts would bring joy or disappointment on Christmas morning.
The third variable that probably moved Davis to pen her most famous Christmas ode was the looming threat of another World War. Even before the attack on Pearl Harbor, there was a somber mood in almost every church service, radio news report, newspaper story. The world was on the brink self-destruction, everyone knew about it, and there appeared to be no way to avoid the conflict.
With these thoughts in mind, Davis, who most often penned complex and intricate musical pieces, sat down at the piano in 1941 and wrote a very simple song about a very unpretentious Christmas gift. Imagining a poor child coming to witness the birth of the Savior, Katherine composed “The Carol of the Drum.”
The child who was the focal point of Davis’s song might have been from ancient Israel, but in 1941 he could have come off the streets of any American town. He was a victim of poverty, a polite child whose only possession was a small drum. All he could offer was to “play his best.” But before he began, still very unsure that what he was offering was good enough for a king, the small boy asked Mary if his gift would be appropriate. It was the story that millions knew well in the days of economic chaos and impending war. After all, it was a time when peace on earth seemed like a fairy tale.
Even though its message seemed so much a part of the times, “The Carol of the Drum,” spurred on by its elementary percussion beat, did not become one of the songs that inspired a world at war. Like thousands of other Christmas carols, it was pushed aside. During these years Americans instead clung to sentimental numbers such as “I’ll be home for Christmas “ and “White Christmas”. In fact it seemed the holidays of World War II had less to do with the gospel of Luke and much more to do with families praying to be safely reunited for a future Christmas Day. So for almost two decades, “Carol of the Drum” remained an unknown melody with a forgotten message. During this time, Katherine moved on to other types of music and messages.
In 1958, Harry Simeone, while searching for ideas for a Christmas album, happened upon Davis’s carol. Simeone had once directed the famed Fred Waring Orchestra. He now had his own choir. Sensing that voices could blend to produce a drum beat, the choir leader dusted off the World War II reject. He then rearranged Davis’s “Carol of the Drum”, renamed it, and took it to the recording studio. Convinced this song was a hit, in November the Harry Simeone Chorale’s “Little Drummer Boy” was released. In the era of rock and roll, doo-wop, and teen idols, the Christmas story of a poor child and his drum took the nation by storm.
By 1962, “Little Drummer Boy” had been recorded more than a hundred times and had appeared on the pop charts on five occasions. The song had also been featured on countless television shows and was being adapted into an animated movie starring Greer Garson. By the end of the decade, only two other Christmas songs, “White Christmas” and “Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer,” had generated more success.
No one was more shocked by the public’s response to her “Carol of the Drum” than was Katherine Davis. At the age of seventy, after working for more than five decades in relative obscurity, she was suddenly in the nation’s spotlight. Her story of a child who played drums for the baby Jesus would keep Davis in the nation’s heart until her death in 1980.
Katherine Davis could not explain why “Little Drummer Boy” came to mean so much to America. Perhaps a part of it was due to the climate that had enveloped the nation the year Harry Simeone recorded the song. For the first time people wear faced with the prospect that man had the power to blow the earth apart with the push of a button. The fear of nuclear bombs ending time itself caused many to yearn for an era when peace on earth came down to something far less complex than a United Nations debate or an Iron Curtain separating good from bad and fight from wrong. So the carol that had been written on the eve the Second World War became a prayer for peace during the height of the Cold War. Maybe, some thought, if the leaders of the world would simply listen to the hearts and minds of the children, then peace would be deemed more important than territorial of political disputes. Perhaps a single drum played with sincerity could silence the angry voices long enough to focus on the real reason for celebrating Christmas.
Simple, direct, and honest, “Little Drummer Boy “might have been based on a legend, but in its verses are beautiful examples of the best Christmas gift of all – a rich present wrapped in love and delivered by a child.
This morning in church my pastor preached on the blessings of trials, using the life of Joseph as an example. Of course most of us have not had to endure the depth of a trial as Joseph but no trial is free from sorrow. If the choice were left to us most of us would choose to live a trial free life but then our life - our gold bar you might say - would never be purified and the very trial God allows us to go through often yields results we never would have thought we could accomplish.
I am sure Eliza Edmunds Hewitt would have agreed. WHO? As often the case we are probably more familiar with her work than with this amazing lady herself. Below I have copied her story from Christianity.com and at the close I wrote out the words of her hymn. I hope it is a blessing and will be encouragement to anyone going through a hard time!
Eliza was born on this day, June 28, 1851 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Educated in the local school system, she graduated as valedictorian of the Girl's Normal School that she attended. She became a teacher in the public schools of her city.
But then came misery. Her career screeched to a halt when she was forced to bed with a painful spinal problem. (One of her descendants has contacted us and said her debilitating condition was caused by an reckless student striking her with a piece of slate.) Lying in bed, she could have been bitter. Instead, she studied English literature and began to sing and write:
Sing the wondrous love of Jesus; sing his mercy and his grace.
In the mansions bright and blessed he'll prepare for us a place.
Some of her lines came into the hands of Professor John R. Sweney. He wrote her asking for more, and set a few of her songs to music, including one of the better known: "Will there be any Stars in My Crown?" He and William J. Kirkpatrick published her first hymns.
We remember Eliza Hewitt today because of those hymns. Had she never been bed-ridden, she might not have written them. Among the best known are, "Give Me Thy Heart, Says the Father Above," "When We All Get to Heaven," "Sunshine in My Soul," "Will there be any Stars in My Crown?" and "More About Jesus Would I Know."
Later Eliza's well-being improved, although she suffered re-occurrences for the rest of her life. Despite her health problems, she was deeply interested in Sunday school work, and superintended a Sunday school for the Northern Home for Friendless Children. This was followed by similar work in the Calvin Presbyterian Church. At one point, she had a class of 200!
Eliza died in 1920
New Product now available! Just $6
I am just an ordinary girl who is loved by an extraordinary God and I seek to love others the same way. I love to bake, read, do puzzles, watch Hallmark movies, and go shopping with my mom! This blog was created as a place where I could share some thoughts that the Lord has shown me and to be an encouragement to others who desire to know Him in a deeper way. My prayer is to learn to sit still and trust God with my future.
Did you know that Sit Still my Daughter has a magazine for women? Real woman share real stories of their struggles with self-worth, fear, anxiety, infertility, and waiting on God for their spouse. Click here to read it!