JOY ALONG THE WAY: CHRISTMAS DONKEY TELLS GREAT TALE

Neither biblical Matthew nor Luke tell us that Joseph and Mary had a donkey with them to make the time-dividing trip from Nazareth to Bethlehem. Common sense tells us they did. Artists, biblical commentators and countless other writers also tell us so. No one states it more plainly than Barnard Youngman writing in "Land and People of the Bible," published by Hawthorne Books. He says with such economy of words, "Mary rode a donkey. Joseph walked."

But, did Joseph own a donkey? His business of making wooden bowls, wheels, troughs, tables and bowls, which he could do in his own courtyard, did not require him to travel. Did some neighbors lend them a donkey? Perhaps Mary's more affluent relatives over in Bethsaida -- Salome, Zebedee, James and John -- offered to lend them one. But, let us assume, along with Youngman, that they arrived in Bethlehem, Mary riding a donkey.

Was the lowly donkey, rather than a stately horse, present in the animal shelter at the birth? Did it bray softly in celebration as the baby was laid in the manger? And did this donkey have a dark streak of hair down its back with a cross piece of dark hair at the shoulders forming a cross? Many of the Sicilian strain of donkeys were so colored. From Sicily to Galilee isn't so far.

Let us begin a fictitious genealogy of the Christmas donkey, beginning with the first one to leap off the smelly wooden ark. Can't you just see him and his mate, plus other equines, kicking up their hind legs and swishing their tails with joy to have feet on the ground again, even though it was probably still a bit muddy? From there on we can pin a tale on the donkey down through the ages.

Historians tell us that ancestors of donkeys came mostly from Abyssinia (Ethiopia) and other places in North Africa. Hence, according to this tale, when the ark landed in Turkey, the donkeys migrated south and then, by way of Sicily to Galilee. (Poetic license is one of my tools).

People like to point out important persons in their genealogy. If donkeys do, some of the hardier ones would say, "Some of our herd were given to Pharaoh in exchange for Sarah, Abraham's wife, to keep the Egyptians from killing Abraham, to which others might say, "I was among those Jacob presented to his brother, Esau, hoping to allay Esau's possible anger about being cheated out of his birthright. Not to be outdone, surely some donkey would point to the jawbone of one of his ancestors that Samson used to kill a thousand Philistines.

All donkeys, would, no doubt, mention the donkey that Ballam rode, at King Balak's request, to place a curse upon the Israelis coming in such huge numbers out of Egypt. Ballam could only speak what Jehovah told him to, but he set out on his donkey to "get the lay of the land." Three times his donkey saw an angel standing in the way, but Ballam couldn't see the angel and beat the donkey terribly for not getting on. Finally the donkey talked to Ballam in words Ballam could understand. A donkey that could talk like a human! At this retelling, all donkeys pause in their genealogical history as if they, too, see through a glass darkly.

So we come down through the ages to the donkey that probably witnessed the great birthday. Maybe it was the same donkey that helped Mary, Joseph and baby flee into Egypt and, after a few years, returned with them to Nazareth.

A true fictioner (true?) could say that it was an offspring of this same Christmas donkey whose colt Jesus rode into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. Whee, it would make a good donkey tale. But for now let us stop with the donkey that, with lowered ears, is looking down at the baby in the manger.

REJOICE!

Jean Bell Mosley is an author and longtime resident of Cape Girardeau.