That winter was unprecedented. The number of consecutive freezing days and snowfall set an Illinois record and resulted in 62 deaths and more than 2,000 injuries. I was kept very busy.

One morning the shop received so many calls about stranded motorists, abandoned vehicles and accidents, I decided to skip class and keep working. The local radio station and newspaper warned residents to stay inside unless it was an emergency. They said if you absolutely had to travel be certain to carry a first-aid kit, flashlight (extra batteries), blankets, waterproof matches, a sack of sand, a shovel, tool kit, tow rope, booster cables, compass… the list was as extreme as the weather. Since cellular phones weren’t around back then, you had to think before venturing out.

By the end of the day I was beat. I arrived home and started taking off my boots when the phone rang. It was the county police: “This situation has gone from bad to worse… get back out there and start towing in any and every vehicle in sight.” Apparently the number of stranded vehicles was making it impossible to plow—not to mention dangerous.

I grabbed a sandwich and went back to work… and continued working for nearly 40 consecutive hours. Before long I had pulled in enough vehicles to pay for an entire semester of school. Financially, the blizzard seemed like a blessing to me.

At some point, as my boss was writing reports on all the frozen vehicles that had filled the parking lot, it hit him… “How long has McMillan been working?”

“Wrecker Boy, Wrecker Boy, do you copy?”

That was my “handle.” The older shop guys gave it to me. They found it funny. I didn’t mind. Even if I had, it wouldn’t have mattered—the police called me “Wrecker Boy,” too.

“I read you… over,” I responded.

“What’s your twenty?”

The radio was breaking up. I tried adjusting the squelch control but to no avail. “I’m not certain… out in the country… some place west of town,” I replied. I had strategically pulled in the vehicles closest to the shop first, then slowly worked my way further and further into the country… off the beaten path.

“It’s time you bring that damn wrecker in and get some rest.”

He was more right than he knew. I was exhausted and in desperate need of rest.

“10-4… I’m picking up one more—then I’m heading back.”

“10-1… I can’t read yo…” were the last words I heard. I tried contacting him a few more times but concluded I was out of range. It was around noon when I lowered the tow sling down, slid under the stranded car, and hooked up the chains. I was mentally and physically fatigued. It took everything I had to move the frozen hoist lever. With the front wheels off the snow, I jumped back inside the cab, peeled off my gloves, switched on the flashing amber light, and started back toward the shop. I glanced in the side mirrors to check on my load. While it appeared stable, I knew I wasn’t. I was sleep-drunk, driving under the influence of exhaustion.

Thin white halos outlined the trees, power poles and lines… like a strange inverted Sabattier print. Everything was glowing unnaturally and I was squinting, hoping to make it stop. I tried calculating how much money I had earned but found I couldn’t add. I tried figuring out how much school I’d missed but didn’t know what day it was. My mind was crystallizing like the world around me. I kept drifting off the road—until the wheels rumbled and then I’d swerve back on—then off… back on… off… on … off… on… then FLASH… I was blind!

I screamed, grabbed my eyes and hit the breaks. With my forehead pressed against the steering wheel, I rubbed my eyelids until my sight started to slowly return. “What the hell just happened… was it aliens?” I asked myself.

Like Lot’s wife, I reluctantly glanced back and saw what appeared to be a laser gun peering above the snow’s surface. Or was it a spacecraft? Upon closer inspection, I discovered it was neither… at least by design. It was a submerged car reflecting the sun. I must have glanced over at the precise moment to catch a flash and to make things worse, my weary eyelids couldn’t respond in time to protect my pupils from frying.

I watched the snow blow over the small exposed patch of car roof—covering it and uncovering it—“dot-dot-dot-dot… dot-dash-dot-dot… like Morse code. I culled through my Cub Scout memories but couldn’t recall a single signal.

I wondered how and when the car ended up out in the field…. but stopped myself from wondering whether anybody was inside it. I know that sounds bad. But I was alone and lost, and while I didn’t know it then, I was experiencing severe sleep deprivation for the first time in my life. After several attempts to radio the office, I stopped and concluded I was still out of range.

Unaware of my location, I tried painting mental pictures of the area so I could report the buried car once I returned. But trying to paint mental pictures in my mental state proved to be impossible. I put the wrecker in gear and started down the road, hoping to figure out where I was.

Before long, the voices in my head returned, “Nobody’s trapped in that car… it would take days to bury a car like that… you’re just exhausted and not thinking right.” Collectively, the voices were convincing until one brave voice spoke up, “Maybe you’re all right… but what if someone is buried in that car?” That question stopped the wrecker and turned me around.

The car appeared to be even further from the road than I had remembered. I waited for the voices of reason to return and persuade me to head back to the shop, but they remained silent. So I bundled up and reentered the deep freeze. Trying to get the shovel down from behind the toolbox was not only a struggle; it was also a warning: “Don’t do it… you are in no condition to rescue anyone.”

Then I looked over the tundra at that buried car and put it out of my mind. I made my way across the field and didn’t look back at the wrecker. I didn’t want to know how far or little I had traveled; I just wanted to arrive. I leaned into the wind fighting for each step… slipping and falling along the way. When I arrived, I fell to my knees and leaned on the shovel to catch my breath. The cold air burned my lungs as I climbed up onto the entombed car and started pounding on the roof and yelling, “Is anyone in there? Can you hear me?” I thought I heard something, but between the howling wind and my mental state I couldn’t be sure.

Don’t worry, you’ll be okay, I’ll get you out!” I yelled as I shoveled enough snow away to see through the driver’s window. I dropped to my knees, leaned down, and peered inside. The front seat was empty, but I couldn’t see into the back. So I climbed toward the rear, cleared away more snow and glanced inside… it was empty, too. Thank God, I thought, as the shovel slid down from the roof onto the ground.

I rolled onto my back, spread out like a snow angel on top of the roof and closed my eyes. I could feel my heart pounding as I tried to catch my breath. In time I sat up and looked back toward the wrecker. Its amber beacon flashed like a distant light tower. And I was a wayward sailor… and no one but me knew I was lost at sea. Whatever energy I had before my journey was now gone.

I slid down the car and started staggering back when I heard a sound. It came from inside the car! Then I realized I hadn’t thought to check the floors… or under the seats. “Hello… hello… I hear you… are you okay?” I yelled frantically turning back to look inside—but it was still empty. The sounds were from inside my head… or at best, from the wind howling around me. I looked toward the flashing amber light again and started to cry. As I made my way toward the beacon, the tears froze to my eyelashes and cheeks.

I finally reached the wrecker and thanked God for having helped me to make it back. My body throbbed as I breathed in the warm air from the wrecker cab. I threw my gloves and cap on the passenger’s seat and watched the snow crystals turn back into water.

Then I glanced back across the field and realized I had forgotten the snow shovel. In a distraught state, I started crying again, then laughing… I had just risked my life to rescue someone who didn’t need rescuing… and wasn’t about to go through it all again for a snow shovel. I wiped my eyes, put the wrecker in gear and started back down the road—again.

Days later, I drove back to the scene. The car was gone. The wind and snow had already erased most of the evidence of it ever having been there. I purchased a new snow shovel for the wrecker and never told anyone this story until now.

Looking back on it, I might have done things differently—but probably not much. The colloquial phrase “Good Samaritan,” means someone who helps a stranger. It’s derived from a parable Jesus tells in response to the question of who one’s “neighbor” is… I believe that’s everyone… even those you don’t know but are willing to risk your life to save. The ethic of reciprocity (The Golden Rule) doesn’t discriminate.

Perhaps the stars were aligned just so that week, but of the three consultancies invited to present, the first two started their presentations the exact same way… by challenging us with a nine-dot puzzle. Solving it required connecting each dot using four straight, continuous lines—without lifting the pen from the paper.

The first consultant seemed taken aback by our questions and passion toward solving it. Apparently he had come in expecting to present the puzzle, answer a few predictable questions, watch us make some failed attempts, and then give us the answer. Until that day, he had only presented to business executives who had little interest in solving visual puzzles—not graphic designers.

By using a very wide marker, all nine dots could be connected with only one line.

When I asked him if we could use one line rather than four, he just smiled. “If you can solve the puzzle using only one line, by all means, be my guest. Just make certain it’s a straight line… and don’t lift your pen.” Before I could respond, he added, “If you solve it with four lines, lunch is on me… solve it with one line and I’ll make certain you get a raise… and bonus, too,” then winked at the president of our firm.

When I explained that my solution required a very wide pen, he began shaking his head and then with a dismissive laugh said, “No… I’m afraid that would be cheating… you have to use a standard size pen.” Then he held his marker up for everyone to see before asking again, “Okay, are you ready for the answer?”

When we shook our heads, he seemed concerned. His concerns grew when a senior designer stood and presented another solution. Having folded his puzzle like an accordion, he carefully angled his marker and hit all nine dots in one pass.

Shaking his head once again the consultant announced, “I’m afraid you can’t fold the paper either… you must use four continuous straight lines without lifting the pen from the paper… and it must stay flat… no folding is allowed.”

Folding the paper didn't exactly solve the problem but it was an interesting direction.

By repositioning the dot, the puzzle could be solved in a number of ways.

As I stopped folding my paper to consider the newly established rules, the designer sitting behind me shared another solution. By carefully cutting out each dot and repositioning them on the paper, she not only solved the puzzle, but also did so without violating the established rules. Her solution also confirmed my suspicions… I really had smelled rubber cement.

Before she could expound on the merits of her solution… or before someone else could share another solution, the frazzled consultant grabbed his marker, drew four quick lines on the easel and announced, “To find the solution, you must… THINK OUTSIDE THE BOX!”

This is "the" answer the consultant expected.

You might imagine how the second presentation went over. What still eludes me is the number of business people back then that accepted this puzzle as some form of empirical evidence. What’s more preposterous: accepting that an executive with poor puzzle solving abilities can’t solve business problems… or that a consultant who solves the very puzzle he just presented, can? Maybe it’s a toss-up.

What I also found interesting was the similarities between the first two consultants. Each presented the puzzle as THE litmus test for business innovation… yet, ironically, both assumed that only one answer existed. Why couldn’t they let us explore more ideas or discuss the answers we proposed? Because they were really outside the box! Besides, if another solution existed, their presentation “theme” wouldn’t have worked. By trying to expose our imaginary boundaries, they were actually exposing their own.

It’s funny… they wanted to be perceived as innovators—cutting-edge problem solvers—but the more they repeated the phrase, “Think Outside the Box,” the clearer it became… they were anything but. I’ve often wondered how long it would have taken us to find this solution… more importantly, what other solutions and potential directions would we have discovered along the way?

Most people have seen The Wizard of Oz—at least once. It’s been playing since 1939. If you haven’t, you should consider doing so. For those who have seen it, reflect back to the scene where Dorothy, her little dog Toto, the Scarecrow, Cowardly Lion and the Tin Man are all standing before the great and powerful Wizard of Oz. As he blows fire and warns them not to incur his wrath, Toto casually walks over and pulls back a curtain to reveal that the intimidating Wizard of Oz is no more than a little man projecting a big image onto a screen, pushing buttons and yelling into a microphone.

Hoping he hadn’t been seen, the wizard quickly pulls the curtain closed and announces into the microphone, “Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.” But it’s too late. The truth had been exposed.

Over the years, I have met other people (experts) professing to have “the” answer, too. These modern day wizards often hide behind titles, organizations and use fancy argot to appear knowledgeable. But like Toto, it’s important to look past illusion (and clichés), pull back the curtain, and deal with reality. This is paramount to finding “real” solutions.

As promised, I was left alone and given total access to “be creative.” Staying focused and on task was difficult. The amount of material was vast and my mind wandered like a school kid in class. I was so hyper-focused on the subject matter, the assignment seemed meaningless.

At first I felt a little uncomfortable… like I shouldn’t be reading his personal notes, handling his guitars, or messing with his stuff… like his boots or blue jumpsuit from San Quentin! But then I realized Johnny kept all these things for a reason. Collectively, they represented him… his memories, thoughts and special moments on earth. Some were fragments… personal pieces of a complicated puzzle, clues from an unconventional life. Many of his notes, sketches and lyrics were scribbled out on random sheets of paper, crossed out, rewritten, edited, and often left unfinished. It was these pieces that I connected with most. The fragments… ideas he had worked on but never finished. The idea seeds… the work in progress… the unsolved mysteries that we all carry with us throughout our lives… hoping to someday find them a home.

It’s easy to focus on the tangible successes and failures in someone’s life… I guess that’s why it’s commonly done. But to me, those fragments tell a much better story… a real story about a person’s passionate struggle to understand and connect the dots. And in Johnny’s case, his random fragments revealed these things and more. Regardless of what history says, this much I know… aside from his legendary status, Johnny Cash was a sincere person who experienced many trials and tribulations. He worked hard and pushed himself to be his best. He dug down deep inside himself and was a truth seeker. He loved his wife, June, his fans and his god.

After my second day of shooting, the curator (who was also a good friend of Johnny’s), asked me to join him and his girlfriend for dinner. As you might guess, the conversation was centered largely on Johnny. I asked many questions and he shared many wonderful, personal and intimate stories about the man in black… they all confirmed my intuition. Then I shared my impressions about Johnny and showed some of the photographs I had taken. After complimenting my work, he smiled and said, “You connect with Johnny… he would have really liked you.” What more could be said? I’m sorry we never met in this lifetime… but in some mystical way, I feel we have.

A few years back, Deere hired me to design a coffee table book that would capture its rich history and more importantly, convey its core values. The title of the book was Genuine Values. I, along with the CEO and a few senior executives, built this idea around the following values: integrity, quality, commitment and innovation. We felt these words best reflected the core values exhibited by its founder and that have successfully guided Deere up to today.

In my new book, Pink Bat: Turning Problems Into Solutions, I share the John Deere story from a different perspective… from its very inception. It’s easy to talk about the after effects… the success story that followed. But when you realize this international corporation started when one young man saw a “problem” as a solution… the story is even more amazing.

Let me take you back 173 years: For U.S. farmers in the eastern states, a cast-iron plow worked fine. But for farmers who tried using it to cultivate crops in the rich Midwest soil, it was a disaster. In fact, attempting to cut through tough prairie ground with a cast-iron plow was problematic to say the least. Trying to use one in the sticky rich soil without it getting clogged was nearly impossible.

Many knowledgeable people (experts) focused on this problem. Perhaps that was the problem. The more they focused on it, the bigger it seemed to become. In time, most people and experts alike concluded it was too big… they accepted the “problem” for what it was and gave up.

Then a young blacksmith (an outsider named John Deere) moved to the Midwest from out east. He learned of this “problematic” situation. But he was a “Pink Bat” thinker… so instead of focusing on the “problems,” he focused on solutions instead. He tried many different plow concepts and while none of them were successful, he learned from each failure and refused to quit.

One day as he walked to work, a glint of sunlight reflected off an old discarded saw blade. To the sawmill, this old blade represented a worthless, worn out piece of steel… a problem. To young John Deere, it was a beautifully honed piece of smooth steel… a perfect solution. After pulling it from the junk pile, he took it to his shop and created a plow that worked great in the rich (previously considered problematic) Midwest soil. The rest, so to speak, is history.

History is filled with Pink Bat examples (unseen solutions mislabeled as problems). What’s more important is that today’s world is full of them, too. They surround us every day. Often they are mislabeled as problems… but they’re really solutions just waiting to be seen. Like John Deere, we are each capable of turning problems into solutions… the key is seeing things for what they are and what they aren’t… and using our imaginations to see them for what they can be.

This content is based on my newly released book: Pink Bat: Turning Problems Into Solutions, available at our store for a special introductory price of $12.

His accusation came during a discussion concerning healthcare. Jim’s position was pretty simple: Government should stay the hell out of healthcare… period. After a few more statements along the same vein, I realized Jim, like many U.S. citizens, had taken the bait. By bait, I mean the propaganda that has become the faulty cornerstone of the so-called “healthcare” debate. What made me a radical in his eyes is that I didn’t accept it. I was interested in discussing “health” care… not “sick” care. Jim wanted to argue about government involvement, insurance companies, hospitals, drug companies and so on… politics.

When you stop listening to rhetoric and start looking at reality (facts and evidence), most “problems” start looking different. Healthcare is no exception. It has little to do with the issues being discussed in Washington or in the media.

Take heart disease. It kills 40% of Americans, more than any other injury or ailment… and it’s been doing so for years. So what is heart disease? One of the key components is plaque that builds up in the coronary arteries. If left untreated, it can completely block blood flow to the heart or rupture and form a blood clot causing a heart attack. Why does this happen? Some people have a genetic predisposition. Since my grandfathers died from heart attacks, and since my father has had three bypass surgeries, a stent and most recently, a pacemaker installed, I am one of those people. So I don’t take genetic predispositions lightly, but I also know genetics only set the stage and do not solely determine our fate.

Another indicator is cholesterol. If your cholesterol level is high, you’re at risk of heart disease. The great news… and the news that made me a radical in Jim’s eyes… is that you can avoid heart disease and most other major diseases as well through a “healthy” diet and lifestyle. Other than fish on occasion, I stopped eating meat several years ago. Within three months of doing so, my cholesterol levels dropped 60 points and have remained low ever since. A recent physical had my cholesterol level at 147 mg/dL (according to currently accepted medical belief it should be under 180).

I addressed the “health” problem… not the symptoms. I exercise and eat a plant-based diet… that’s real healthcare and that’s what Jim didn’t want to discuss. He was too focused on symptoms… not causes. It was after I pointed out the cost of typical bypass heart surgery and medical treatment vs. a healthy diet and lifestyle that he called me a radical.

As I enjoyed my wonderful vegetarian dinner, Jim washed down several pills including his high blood pressure and cholesterol medications before digging into his big chicken dinner with greasy fries. What more needed to be said? Since I value our friendship, I decided to change the subject.

When you look at the typical American diet and lifestyle, the health “problem” becomes pretty clear… so does the “solution.” Surgeries and medications address  symptoms… not the root problem. If looking at reality and making intelligent choices that violate or threaten the status quo makes me a radical… then so be it. I proudly accept the title.

In 1951 a new team of researchers rediscovered the formula. But this time, rather than reject it, one of the scientists was intrigued with its bonding properties. By viewing it for what it really was (and by contrast, seeing it for what it wasn’t), he set his imagination to work and saw it for what it could be.

His solution? Cyanoacrylates made for an amazing SUPER GLUE! In fact, it could bond almost anything you could imagine. The stickiness problem became the solution… or so it seemed.

Paradoxically, when it was discovered that the formula really did bond nearly anything, including human skin, its strength quickly became its perceived weakness. For the company planning to produce this new product, the potential legal issues and dangers far outweighed the benefits. Once again, cyanoacrylates became a problem.

That is, until the U.S. military heard about it. At the time, doctors in Vietnam were looking for a quick way to suture wounded soldiers. This “problem” substance once again became a great solution and saved many people’s lives in the process. Cyanoacrylates in one form or another are still being used today in medical applications around the world.

By adding a warning label to the tube, Super Glue quickly became a household solution. In addition to fixing broken items, mending wounds, cyanoacrylates is a solution for many other things as well… including a forensic tool to capture latent fingerprints on non-porous surfaces like glass, plastic, etc.

And to think it was once considered a problem! How many solutions have you mistakenly rejected and shelved as problems? Maybe it’s time to revisit some of them—through new lenses. The key to finding solutions is to see things for what they are… and not what they’re labeled… or what we want them to be. By keeping an open mind, and applying our imaginations, we can create a world filled with new solutions and endless opportunities.

This content is based on my newly released book: Pink Bat: Turning Problems Into Solutions, available at our store for a special introductory price of $12.

Since our brain filters through volumes of random data each moment, selecting and rejecting evidence to support our beliefs, we need to consciously define and focus our attention on what it is we are seeking.

Look at the following words and quickly say the actual color aloud (not the word).

If you’re like most people, even this simple challenge requires effort to reprogram your brain. With practice, this task becomes easier once you focus more on the color and less on the actual word.

What we believe and focus on… becomes our reality. If you go out looking for trouble, you’ll find it. If you focus on happiness, it will appear. Once you decide what you’re looking for, your brain will go to work to find it and make it your reality. Whether you’re focused on problems or solutions, it doesn’t matter… your brain will subconsciously gather evidence and make it your reality.

Remember, evidence that could disprove our beliefs is marginalized or blocked by our brain filters, while weaker or even false evidence is distorted or enhanced to support them.

Since labeling something helps make it so, why not start by labeling a “problem” as a “solution”? While this may seem counterintuitive at first, successful people have been seeing problems as solutions since the beginning of time.

The next time you’re faced with “problems” consider this… unseen solutions (Pink Bats) seem to emerge more frequently when “problems” are abundant. In math, when you multiply negative numbers, you get a positive solution. The same often holds true with problems (negatives). As they multiply, “Pink Bats Solutions” appear… the key is to suspend our judgments, use our imaginations and remain open-minded enough to see them.

This content is based on my newly released book: Pink Bat: Turning Problems Into Solutions, available at our store for a special introductory price of $12.

Subconsciously, our brain selects what we believe is possible, plausible and “real,” while ignoring or blocking everything else. Have you ever been in a noisy room with many conversations going on at once when out of nowhere you hear your name mentioned?

That’s your filter at work. Since you consider your name to be important, your brain filters out the less important information and focuses on your name. It’s this selection and rejection process that establishes your sense of reality. It also establishes what you consider a “problem” and what you consider a “solution.”

Modifying our brain filter isn’t easy. It’s even harder when those around us share similar beliefs and expectations. It’s hard to see a new solution when it has been labeled and accepted as a problem… but it is possible.

Mislabeling happens everywhere. You can see it in business, education… actually you can find it in every aspect of life… once you start looking. When we learn to see beyond labels, new realities start to emerge. This is where enormous potential exists.

It’s difficult to find new solutions when we override reality with misguided labels and beliefs. It’s like being lost… yet continuing to follow a flawed road map. Sometimes it’s a good idea to look out the windshield to see where you really are… the map (and label) is never the territory. When we believe how things should or shouldn’t be, rather than how they are, we are living inside an illusion.

The more we accept illusions, the more we block out reality. Likewise, when we focus on problems, we block out solutions. We can become so focused on “problems,” we can’t see anything else.

Look at this series of geometric shapes:

At first they appear meaningless. That’s because most people focus on the black shapes and ignore the white shapes in between. When you focus on the white shapes, the black shapes become less important and suddenly, “SOLUTIONS” appear.

Many “problems” are mislabeled, unseen solutions… and at the very least, new opportunities just waiting for you to recognize them and take action.

This content is based on my newly released book: Pink Bat: Turning Problems Into Solutions, available at our store for a special introductory price of $12.

One night over a glass of wine (or two), I asked, “Mario, before or during a race, do you ever think about the possibility of being seriously injured… or even dying?”

It was later explained to me that asking a professional race car driver such a question was inappropriate at best. Perhaps so, but Mario didn’t seem to mind. “I try not to think about it, Michael,” he responded.

I took another sip. “I understand, but isn’t it hard not to think about it at times?”

Then he looked at me and said in a most humble and sincere way, “I don’t fear death; I respect it… and I focus on winning.”

His answer triggered an “aha” moment. We all have obstacles in our lives and jobs… death and injury just happened to be a couple that Mario faced on a regular basis. You don’t jump into a swimming pool and focus on drowning… even though you know it’s possible. Mario focuses on winning… succeeding… period.

Then I asked him when he knew it was time to retire. After reflecting for a moment he responded, “That’s a much harder question. You never really know the perfect time, but it has less to do with your age and ability than many people believe… it has more to do with your purpose and passion.”

His answer resonated throughout my brain. It was Mario’s last racing season… and his words transcended my question. When purpose and passion are replaced with too much thinking and planning, we are no longer competing. Winners are driven by purpose and passion. You can’t pre-plan and over-think each turn and move you make… you need to follow your intuition and let purpose and passion drive you.

What’s driving you? If you’re faltering, check your purpose and passion and make some corrections. When these elements are in place, obstacles disappear and your goals are always within reach.

When I was around six years old, my sister and I used to perform The Little Drummer Boy together. Connie is seven years older than me and played piano. I sang and operated the sustain pedal. Since The Little Drummer Boy was the only song we performed, December was our busiest month. Connie had a larger musical repertoire, but most of her songs didn’t require vocals… or so I was told. Had I only known “Alley Cat” had lyrics, we could have doubled our set list.

Our primary audience consisted of my mom, dad, brother and dog—in various combinations. (Note: Were it not for my love of animals, Punky, the meanest dog I’ve ever known… may he rest in peace… would not be included in this story, nor considered an audience member.) Since the piano was adjacent to the kitchen, my mom heard us perform the most.

The piano was a Wurlitzer spinet. My grandfather, “Pa,” worked at the Wurlitzer factory in DeKalb, Illinois, where the piano was built. If he hadn’t, we would have never owned a piano. Pa was my mom’s dad. He was born in Germany and took pride in this fact… he took great pride in his work as well. Between his work ethic and commitment to quality, he was proof that the phrase “Work your fingers to the bone” was more than an idiom. I was told the pianos he hand-finished were flawless because “Pa believed in doing his best.”

As The Little Drummer Boy played in the background, I was transported back in time… I was six years old again sitting on the piano bench. I loved sitting by my big sister, pretending to read music and singing. I must confess, during those early performances, I did more than just sing the lyrics… in my mind I actually become that little boy in the song. There’s something else I must acknowledge… my singing back then wasn’t much in demand… even in December. Each performance required that I first convince the audience to attend and then convince Connie to accompany me.

Strangely, I never felt bad that no one ever asked me to sing. I didn’t need them to. It was my gift to them. When we do our best, we don’t need approval… we already have it. No one asked The Little Drummer Boy to play either. I used to believe that that’s why Jesus smiled at him. When we give the best of ourselves to those we love, we are giving our finest gift.

Come they told me, pa rum pum pum pum
A newborn king to see, pa rum pum pum pum
Our finest gifts we bring, pa rum pum pum pum
To lay before the king, pa rum pum pum pum
So to honor him, pa rum pum pum pum
When we come.

Little baby, pa rum pum pum pum
I am a poor boy too, pa rum pum pum pum
I have no gift to bring, pa rum pum pum pum
That’s fit to give the king, pa rum pum pum pum
Shall I play for you, pa rum pum pum pum
On my drum?

Mary nodded, pa rum pum pum pum
The ox and lamb kept time, pa rum pum pum pum
I played my drum for him, pa rum pum pum pum
I played my best for him, pa rum pum pum pum
Then he smiled at me, pa rum pum pum pum
Me and my drum.

The song ended and so did my last-minute shopping. Hearing it confirmed what I have always known… real gifts come from the heart… they can’t be bought. While the ox and lamb kept time, neither could stop it as time waits for no one. Don’t sit by waiting for the right time to share your finest gifts… the time to share them is always right. Pa rum pum pum pum.