Two Donkeys

by Joan Goble

Two donkeys stood in their stalls in a humble stable on the outskirts of Jerusalem. The oldest, a she-ass could barely chew on the small amount of moldy hay she had been given to eat. She knew that her days left on earth were few, and her colt, which stood by her side, also munching on his hay, was the last one she would ever birth. He wore her out with his constant questions. She only had so much energy to give to him -

"Mother --"

(Not again, she thought, why doesn't he give me some peace.)

"Mother --" he said again.

"Yes --- son."

"Why are the people making so much noise in the streets?"

"Because it is the Passover, son. I have lived through many Passovers, and it is the custom for the people to have one prisoner released. They are calling out his name."

"But, I hear them call, Barabus, Barabus, Mother. Why are they calling for him? I heard he is a thief and a murderer."

"You can never understand men, my son, they are very unpredictable."

"I thought they would want someone else. It was only a week ago that they pulled me out of the field where I was eating green grass, and threw their coats over me, and then they put a man on my back -- a big, strong man. My back could hardly support him, but then a feeling came through me -- traveled down my back into my legs, a strengthening power that made me feel like I could carry a whole Roman legion. And a joy that filled my heart so that all I wanted to do was gallop with happiness. Then he rode me through the gate and into the streets of the city. And the people bowed before us and scattered palm leaves, and called him their King. I heard the Romans have arrested him. Why don't the people release him, their King? Why do they want a thief?"

"Like I told you, son, men are fickle and unpredictable. But if you will listen, I can tell you more about this King." The colt bent his legs and sat down at his mother's side.

"It was many years ago, my son. I was no older than you, and I lived near a little town in Galilee, may miles from here. I used to work for a young carpenter for my daily meals. He would tie the wood on my back and I would carry it to his carpenter shop. His clever hands would make many things from the wood I carried, everything from plows to chairs and tables. I would graze in a small field just outside the shop and sometimes I would watch him work. Then I would carry the plows and chairs to the people that he made them for. He would sleep in the carpenter shop and I would sleep in the field.

"One day he left his work in the shop and built a small sturdy house outside the shop. Soon after the house was built, he brought a beautiful lady there to live with him. She was going to have a baby soon, and often when she went through the town the lady would ride on my back when it became too tiring for her to carry the water on her head to her little house.

"One day we made a long, long trip, and the lady had to ride on my back almost all the way. We came to a little town near Jerusalem and there in a stable near us animals the baby was born. But he was not an ordinary human, because he was visited by the rich and the poor alike. Great kings from the east brought him gifts, and the shepherds even left their flocks in the fields to worship him. Angels sang at his birth. They called him the King and the Son of God.

"Later we had to travel very fast at night a long way to Egypt. The lady cried almost all the way and seemed frightened. But the little human was quiet and happy. I seemed to get the same kind of strength in my legs from carrying him that you did, and the same kind of happiness in my heart that made me travel fast and for long hours without tiring.

"Later we went back to Galilee, when the lady was no longer frightened. The baby grew up to be a fine young boy. We all worked together in the carpenter shop, until the colt had grown older and we went to Jerusalem one Passover. There, some men stole me and made me work in a mine until I was too broken to work any more. I never saw the carpenter's family again until I saw you bringing the King into Jerusalem. Then I knew that it was the boy grown up to be the King -- and I knew it was the same--Jesus the Son of God."

"But Mother, Why do they want to kill their King?"

"As I said, son, men are fickle and unpredictable."