A letter from THE DONKEY there, then to A DONKEY, now.
Dear Fellow Donkey
Thanks for your letter telling me about your busy summer giving children rides on the beach. I hope that they treated you kindly and that the sand didn’t sting your eyes when it was windy. I’ve never actually seen the sea, not the big sea that would take me to your country, but we call some of our larger lakes “seas”.
It’s clever of us to be able to write to each other across 2,000 years as well as over 2,000 miles, isn’t it. We’ll keep to ourselves how we do it.
To start with, I had a quiet year working for my former master for his wife to ride on. In my opinion she would be a lot fitter if she had walked some of the time. She was quite a weight, I can tell you. But if she had got too used to walking I would have been out of a job, so maybe it’s as well that she didn’t.
I first realised that there was a change in the air when I heard my master and mistress talking together about me in my presence. How’s THAT for bad manners! I’m surprised that they didn’t notice me blush! People don’t seem to know that our long ears are for listening. We may not say a lot, but then we don’t miss a lot either. Master was telling Mistress that he would like to buy her a more powerful model. He had seen one in the nearest town and so he would put up an advertisement to sell me.
I had a look at the notice once it was displayed. He described me as sure-footed and said I did 20 miles to the sheaf of hay. He also said that I was a 4-by-4, which are all the rage at the moment. The last comment was “One careful lady owner”. They all say that!
The first people to come round were the village carpenter and his young wife. She was a large lady too but not for lack of exercise! I heard them explain to my owner that they had to travel all the way to Bethlehem, something to do with the registration, which was about collecting money, I wouldn’t wonder.
Now, you can call me an ass if you like, but unless I have missed something there MUST be an easier way to collect people’s names and record where they live. Why can’t those doing the recording go to each town in turn rather than expecting the people to travel back to where their families came from? My new master would have to close his business for weeks and at such an inconvenient time with his wife expecting – but who would listen to a donkey? So I said nothing.
Anyhow the carpenter said that what they most liked about me was that I was sure-footed, so they took me for a test walk, handed over the money – I didn’t know I was worth that much – and took me home.
There wasn’t much opportunity for me to become familiar with my surroundings. My new master and mistress were almost ready for their long journey. We stopped more often than we would have, had it not been for Mistress being so tired. I had to be really careful where I put my hooves down amidst all the rocks on the road.
Master and Mistress were deep in conversation together. They talked about a wonderful but fearsome being called an angel who spoke to both of them at different times, telling them what would happen. All young animals and people are special somehow but theirs would be a very special baby, according to the angel.
The journey took nearly a week and we could think of nothing but getting there and resting for a few days. It was touch and go whether we would arrive before the baby was born. We had travelled for days and been on our own except for the inns where we had lodgings each night, but when we got to Bethlehem it was HEAVING. And there was nowhere for Master and Mistress to stay. Even when Master pleaded with each inn-keeper that his wife was about to give birth he was turned away. Eventually someone let us shelter in his stable, so at least we were indoors.
The baby was born that night but before Master and Mistress could settle to rest there were visitors. They were shepherds, who said that they had been told about the baby by more of those angels, hoards of them this time, who had sung the praises of God before they went away.
We remained in the stable for several days, and then most of the people who had come to register went back to their home-towns so there was room in the house for master and mistress. I stayed on in the stable, of course, enjoying more four-footed company and catching up on the local gossip. There was lots of talk about the King who is jealous and cruel.
After about a fortnight there were more visitors for the baby and his parents. Not shepherds this time but important-looking people in fine clothes. They rode camels not donkeys. The camels – a haughty lot – told us that they had travelled for a year, not just a week. The visitors had been able to tell that the baby was to be born, and where to find him, by seeing a special star. Believe that or not as you like but there they were, and how else did they know to get there?
The visitors gave gifts to the baby, but not what you would expect a new-born to be given. Two of the gifts smelled nice and one was heavy. Then the visitors went back to wherever they had come from.
That was yesterday and it’s now night-time and pitch-black. Master has suddenly come through from the house and is getting me ready to set off with Mistress and the baby. He’s been explaining to her that he’s seen another of those angels in a dream and they’ve got to go now for the baby’s safety. Master is doing his best to reassure Mistress that everything will be alright, but he’s obviously concerned himself.
It’s apparently to do with that King. He’s heard about the baby, so the family have got to find refuge in a distant country. It’s far further away than Nazareth and the journey will last at least a month. If it takes that long, would it hurt to wait a few hours until day-break? It’s going to be hard to carry Mistress and the baby gently when I can’t see properly.
Must go. I’ll write again soon when we get there, wherever THERE is.
EEYORE sincerely,
The Donkey
Dear Friends,
We say farewell to our principal organist, Richard Chivers, who has been offered the post of Director of Music at St Mary’s Cathedral in Wrexham. He had always made it clear that he would like to serve within his own tradition. He has proved a good friend as well as an excellent musician. Whilst we are looking for his replacement we are grateful to a number of deputy organists.
Martin Snellgrove