Little Donkey

Little Donkey 

Clip Clop, Clip Clop 
is all my donkey speaks, 
his little feet so close to mine 
my pace he humbly keeps.

Clip Clop, Clip Clop
Do you know the one you keep? 
It is the Creator of all the world 
His Majesty so meek.

Mary was exhausted. Her first night’s stay in the countryside had been too painful to sleep. Joseph had stopped repeatedly the day before, her legs and back continued to spasm and cramp throughout the night.

Mary tried to hide her pain. How she wished for her mother to be with her! She remembered the times as a little girl when she would rub her back and sing to her. It did not seem that long ago.

It had been so difficult to tell her about the angel and the words that he spoke. At first, her mother was sure some evil man had hurt her; some Roman solider had forced himself on her. But then she heard of the miracle of old Elizabeth and somehow in her heart she knew Mary was telling the truth.

“Come on, Mary. We’re ready to go.” Joseph lifted her on the donkey, which stumbled for a moment under the weight. "Poor old Ben," Joseph thought to himself. He wondered if the tired old animal would make the journey. Worse than that, he wondered what would happen if he didn’t.

Mary was close to tears before the sun was over the treetops. Her tears, though, were not from the pain of the travel. They were not from the heartache of having left the only home she had ever known. Her tears fell in fear of what lay ahead for her and Joseph. What if this was all just a horrible mistake? What if old Ben was not able to carry her? What if the baby came so far out here in the countryside? Then a voice spoke deep inside her with strangely familiar words. "Nothing will be impossible..." Mary couldn’t quite make sense of it.

Nothing will be impossible with God.

They were the words the angel had spoken to Mary about her cousin Elizabeth! "Nothing will be impossible with God." The words turned over and over in her heart. They became truth. They became hope. They became healing to the bruised young soul, merely trying to follow the commands of Jehovah God.

Clip, clip, clip, clop. The rhythm of the little donkey’s feet against the stone path reminded Mary of an old song her mother had sung to her.

Nothing! Nothing! Nothing! Nothing!
Nothing is too difficult for Thee!

Little Ben picked up his pace. Joseph, off key but singing nonetheless, joined in Mary’s song. Even the baby, tucked beneath the heart of sweet Mary, rejoiced in his own unseen way.