The following is chapter 16 in the children’s series, If They Could Talk, the story or our redemption as it unfolds from Genesis to Revelation. This is the story of Jesus’ birth as found in Luke 2. This reworked version first appeared as a blog on December 22, 2011
My Friends,
It seems but yesterday, but alas, it was nigh several years ago; yet I shall never forget what my animal eyes saw that night.
The evening was crisp, and the wind was quick. Many summers I have cursed my fur; this night I was grateful for its cover. A young foal at the time, my work was light, yet the days still long as I learned my beast of burden trade. I was tired, and my body cried forrest. Breath steamed from my nostrils, condensing on my nose and served up an incessant drip of a warm saltiness that teased my thirst.
Coming over the final hill, I began to froth freely; the day’s work taken a greater part of me than realized. Water, straw, andrest were my only thoughts.
As I drew closer to my shelter, I could see something was not right. Busyness surrounded it. My animal friends encircled the stable. A dim light cast shadows of intruders within. “Of all nights, why clean the stalls tonight?” I groaned.
The closer I came, the shadows gave way to faces; one a man, the other a young woman. The woman, though seated, was uncomfortable; the man stood near. This woman was in labor with child.
The little family to be was not going to receive sympathy from me this night. I was cold, tired, and hungry; I was not the imposition, they were. I pushed through the cows and knocked over a sheep; positioning to bellow my case. Before I could bray displeasure, the woman birthed the child. I paused as the man wrapped the babe in cloth and laid Him in a manger—my manger!
I had seen enough. What little sympathy I may have had vanished. I turned to discover more humans had found my stable. A few were dressed stately, but most were common folk from the fields. “What is going on?” No one responded. All the animals were caught up in the birth of this human child. “What’s a baby doing with animals, anyway?” Again, no answer; all were lost in the still.
“Enough is enough,” I brayed. “I am tired, I am hungry, and I am cold. No baby is more important than a full belly and a soft bed.”
A pig bristled hard against me, “Donkey, don’t you know Who this is? This is He who prophets have spoken, and man calls Messiah. Creation has groaned for this night, yet you groan only for yourself. Bow your head, donkey; greet your King.” Pig, never known for tact, got my attention.
And it is why I write you. This is the One Whom the prophets spoke. This is the One Who it was said would crush the head of Satan. The holy writers said He would be born in Bethlehem; now He was here! The sheep later told me what the angels said that night: “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, Who is Christ the Lord!” He therefore can have my stable and He can have my manger; but can He have your heart?
With great excitement,
The Donkey