by Tracey West
Old Donkey stopped yelping and looked at Little Donkey. “Are the gates open?” he asked.
Little Donkey looked over at the gate. It was wide open!
The Miller turned to Little Donkey. “You! What are you doing out of your harness?”
Old Donkey suddenly jumped up and lurched forward. The wheel of the mill swung around.
Wham! It knocked the Miller to the ground. Little Donkey gasped.
“Kid, get outta here!” Old Donkey yelled.
“What about you?” Little Donkey asked.
“I’ll be fine,” Old Donkey assured him. “I just hope you find what you’re looking for.”
That’s when it hit Little Donkey. Old Donkey had faked falling down! He wanted Little Donkey to escape.
“I don’t know what to say,” Little Donkey said.
“You’re welcome, kid,” Old Donkey replied. “Now get going!”
Little Donkey ran as fast as he could toward the open gate. The Miller stood up.
“Oh no, you don’t!” he yelled, his face turning red with anger.
But before he could take a step, Old Donkey swung the mill wheel around again.
Wham! It sent the Miller flying backward.
“You’re free, kid!” Old Donkey yelled. “Make it count!”
Little Donkey shot Old Donkey a quick, grateful look and then raced away as fast as he could.
Chapter Four
The Chase Is On!
Dave the dove was perched in a tree, trying to charm a female dove.
“Look, I’m not gonna be here long,” he was saying. “I have bigger plans, but—”
He stopped at the sound of a loud voice yelling below him.
“Runaway donkey! Somebody grab him!”
Dave looked down. It was the Miller! He was chasing Dave’s good friend, Little Donkey! He had escaped!
Dave took off, quickly catching up to Little Donkey. He flew over his friend’s head.
“You broke out! Yes, the dream is back on. Woo-hoo!” he cheered.
“Not free yet!” Little Donkey said, gasping for breath. “The Miller’s on my tail!”
Dave looked behind Little Donkey. “Yeah, and he does not look happy.”
“I am not happy!” the Miller barked.
“Follow me!” Dave told Little Donkey. “Let’s get out of town!”
Dave looked around for a way to get away from the Miller. Up ahead, workers were repairing a house. A wooden ramp led to the roof.
“This way, up here!” Dave cried, zooming toward it.
“No, no, not up!” Little Donkey yelled. “Donkey don’t like up!”
He looked behind him. The Miller was gaining on him. He had no choice.
He ran up the ramp. It collapsed under his weight as soon as he got to the roof.
The frightened workers fixing the roof screamed and darted out of the way as Little Donkey charged past them.
“Sorry, sorry,” Little Donkey said. “I’m really a nice guy.”
On the street below, the Miller raced around the house, keeping his eye on Little Donkey. The donkey had just surprised a worker holding a bucket of paint.
“Get out of the way!” Little Donkey yelled desperately. He couldn’t slow down. But the worker was frozen in fear.
Little Donkey ducked and scooted under the man’s legs. The worker teetered, and tumbled off the roof. He landed on the Miller, and the paint splashed over both of them.
Then Little Donkey reached the edge of the roof. He skidded to a stop.
“What now?” he asked Dave.
“Jump!” Dave yelled.
“Jump? What? Are you crazy?” Little Donkey replied.
Dave looked down. The Miller was now climbing up the ramp.
“JUST JUMP!” Dave yelled.
Little Donkey made a face. He leaped off the roof . . . and crashed through the roof of the chicken coop below!
“Aaaaaaah! A flying donkey!” one of the chickens squawked.
Then the Miller, covered in paint, crashed through the hole in the roof too. Little Donkey and Dave raced out of the coop as the chickens jumped and cackled, sending loose feathers floating into the air.
The donkey and the dove raced through the house, past a family eating their midday meal. The Miller came after them, followed by the angry chickens.
Little Donkey and Dave burst out into the street and made their way through the crowds. They turned a corner—and found the Miller standing there, waiting for them!
“Other way! Other way!” Little Donkey yelled.
He scrambled backward, tumbling down a flight of stairs that led to a crowded square.
“Dave! Dave! Where are you?” he cried.
He backed up again, smashing into a cart and knocking it over. The canvas top fell onto his body. He shook it off, but a rope attached to the canvas was wrapped tightly around his leg.
Little Donkey couldn’t get away. He climbed on top of the fallen cart and searched the square. The Miller was speeding toward him.
“Oh no, no, no!” Little Donkey wailed.
“There’s no way out of this,” the Miller growled.
Little Donkey was in a tough situation. He looked down from the top of the cart. If he jumped to the other side, he might be able to get away. But the rope was still attached to his leg.
He thought about going back to the mill, about pushing that wheel day in and day out . . .
. . . and he jumped.
The rope yanked at his leg and snapped loudly. The rope broke, and Little Donkey fell to the ground.
He stood up, wincing in pain. Something was wrong with his leg, but he had to keep moving. He spotted an open gate, and hobbled toward it.
Little Donkey had escaped the Miller . . . for now.
Chapter Five
A Name for Little Donkey
After the wedding feast, Mary approached Elizabeth. Mary looked down at her belly, which held the baby that had been growing inside her ever since she was visited by the angel. Elizabeth knew about the baby—but Joseph didn’t.
Mary took a deep breath and nodded toward Joseph. “Okay. Here goes.”
“He’s a good man,” Elizabeth said. “He’ll understand.”
“Thanks,” Mary said, and gave Elizabeth a hug.
“Zechariah!” Elizabeth called to her husband. “Party’s over!”
Zechariah froze, a muffin halfway to his mouth. He stuffed it into his pocket and went to join his wife.
“Great party, guys!” he called out. “Joseph, you must be the happiest man in the world!”
Elizabeth frowned at him.
“Second happiest!” Zechariah corrected. “Clearly I’m the happiest.”
Mary and Joseph smiled and waved as Elizabeth and Zechariah left the courtyard.
“Well, this place isn’t gonna clean itself,” Joseph said. “I’m starting with the dishes!”
Joseph loaded his arms with dishes and walked up the steps to the house.
“I’ll start down here!” Mary called up to him. Then she looked down at her belly. “Where I’ll figure out how to tell him about you.”
She took another deep breath. “It’s all good news, I promise,” she practiced saying. “All good news.”
A rattling noise behind her made her jump. She turned around, but didn’t see anything.
She heard the noise again. This time when she turned, she saw a pitcher shaking on top of one of the tables. She crouched down to lift up the tablecloth—and found herself face-to-face with a donkey!
“Oh!” Mary gasped.
“Aaaaaaaah!” Little Donkey brayed.
He darted out from under the table, pulling off the tablecloth and sending everything clattering to the ground.
“I’m caught again!” he said, panicking. “There’s gotta be a better hiding place.”
He tried to run, but Mary noticed that one of his legs was badly hurt. He limped behind a basket, trying to hide from Mary. But he was much bigger than the basket.
“Okay, maybe not here,” Little Donkey said.
He limped behind a clay pot even smaller than the basket.
“Not that one, either,” he said. As he moved away, he knocked over the pot, breaking it.
The only other object he could hide behind was a goblet that had fallen to the ground. He limped behind it and scrunched up his body as small as he possibly could.
Why couldn’t I be smaller? he wondered. The one time I wish I were smaller!
Mary slowly removed the goblet. She noticed the rope still tangled around Little Donkey’s back leg.
“You poor thing,” she said. She gently reached for the rope and unraveled it from his leg. Little Donkey winced when she touched him, and Mary realized that his leg must be broken.
“You’re hurt!” Mary said.
She got up and ran to Joseph’s carpentry workshop, and returned with two small pieces of wood.
“That can’t be good,” Little Donkey said.
Mary tore a strip of cloth from her shawl. Little Donkey didn’t like the sound. He cringed and started squirming.
“If I am going to help you, you’re going to have to let me, okay?” Mary asked gently.
Little Donkey calmed down. Mary used the cloth to wrap the two pieces of wood around his broken leg.
“Better?” Mary asked.
He stood up. His leg still hurt, but not as much as before. He grunted in agreement.
Mary ran a hand through his mane. “Nice to meet you. I’m Mary.”
Just then, Joseph came back down the stairs.
“You didn’t tell me you had a donkey,” Mary said.
“I don’t,” Joseph said. He came toward Little Donkey, who stumbled backward, frightened.
“He must be a stray,” Joseph said. “Go on, boy. Shoo!”
He clapped his hands. Then he got behind Little Donkey and tried to push him toward the gate. But Little Donkey didn’t budge.
“Scrappy little donkey,” Joseph muttered. “All right. That’s how it’s gonna be.”
He rolled his shoulders, cracked his knuckles, and tried to push Little Donkey again.
Little Donkey quickly stepped to the left, dodging him. Joseph fell face-first into the dirt.
As Joseph picked himself up, he heard Mary behind him.
“Are you okay?”
“Yep, I’m fine,” he replied. “Just a little—”
He stopped. Mary hadn’t been talking to him. She was talking to the donkey! Little Donkey was looking at Mary with wide, innocent eyes.
“The poor little guy is hurt,” Mary said. “Give him a break.”
Joseph cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hello? Did somebody lose a donkey? Because if you have, he’s here!”
Mary smiled at Little Donkey and petted his mane.
“What should we call you?” she asked. “How about . . . Boaz?”
Joseph turned back to Mary. “Wait, what are you doing? You’re naming it?”
“What do you think, Bo?” Mary asked Little Donkey.
Little Donkey nodded, thinking. “Bo,” he said out loud, but of course Mary couldn’t understand him. “No one has ever given me a name before.”
He smiled at Mary.
“I like it!”
Chapter Six
A New Home for Bo
Joseph, Mary, and Bo all walked to Joseph’s carpentry workshop. Joseph shook his head. “No, Mary, if you name him, you’re going to start feeling affectionate toward him. And once you feel affectionate, you’re going to want to keep him. And if there is one thing we are definitely NOT going to do, it’s—”
He turned to see that Mary had already made a little home for Bo inside his carpentry workshop. Bo was snuggled in a basket with blankets. Mary had placed her flower crown on his head.
“That’s my workshop!” Joseph protested.
“Let’s just let him stay here until he’s all better,” Mary said.
She removed her shawl and covered Bo with it. For the first time, Joseph noticed her pregnant belly.
“Mary?” he asked.
Mary turned and saw the look in his eyes. “Come on, let’s go talk upstairs.”
Bo watched Mary and Joseph walk away. He liked the nice lady who had helped his leg—but he wasn’t about to be cooped up again. He wanted to be free!
“Okay, I’m outta here,” he said.
Still weak and hurt, he hobbled across the courtyard. He tried to push the gate open with his head, but it wouldn’t open. He tried pushing it with his butt next—and it still wouldn’t open.
Then Dave landed on top of the gate.
“There you are!” he cried happily. “I’m so glad you’re okay. Do you know how much flying around I’ve done looking for you? I thought that maybe the Miller caught you and was gonna eat you.”
“Eat me?” Bo asked. “Yeah, I don’t think he was going to do that.”
“You don’t know!” Dave countered. “He had crazy in his eyes. So keep it down! He’s still out there someplace!”
Suddenly Bo felt worried. “That guy was yelling about a donkey. Do you think he heard?”
“No, I think we’re good,” Dave assured him. “This is the last place he’d check. Nothing special ever happens in an old shack like this.”
In the house, Joseph was taking in the news Mary had given with him.
“The Messiah?” he asked. He pointed to Mary’s belly. “You’re saying that baby is actually the Messiah? Like, from the prophets? I need to sit down.”
“I know, I know how it sounds, but yes!” Mary replied. “And God wants you and me to raise him.”
“Me?” Joseph asked. “Are you sure I’m . . . I mean, did the angel mention me?”
Mary answered truthfully. “Well, no, but—”
“I can’t raise the Son of God!” Joseph cried, panicked. “He’s a king! I’m just a carpenter. He needs someone with a little more experience being . . . I don’t know, king-ish? I mean, who am I?”
Mary took his hand in hers. “You’re my husband.”
They looked into each other’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Joseph said. “This is just so much to take in right now. Can I have a little time?”
Downstairs, Bo and Dave were trying to open the gate. Bo took a few steps back so he could get a running start. But his bad leg gave out before his head could hit the door.
“Hate to say it,” Dave said, “but even if we got you out, you’re never gonna make it to the Royal Caravan on that leg.”
Bo thought about that. “Dave, I don’t want to hold you back,” he told his friend. “You fly ahead without me. I’ll catch up once my leg heals.”
Dave flapped his wings. “No, we’re in this together!” he insisted. “I’m not gonna leave you here. Friends don’t do that.”
“Are you sure?” Bo asked.
“Yeah, and besides, you’d never make it without me,” Dave said. “I am a bird of the world. I know how things work out there. You are a donkey of the barn. A very small, ill-smelling barn. You need me.”
Bo nodded. “Okay. So now what?”
“Hide out there until your leg heals,” Dave replied, “and then just get yourself kicked out and we’ll be back on track, pal!”
“Bo, actually,” Bo told him. “My name is Bo now. Mary named me.”
“Bo. That’s got a nice ring to it,” Dave said. Then he suddenly became suspicious. “Wait—that lady-person named you? I said hide here. Not settle in and get a name. Have I taught you nothing?”
“I am not settling in,” Bo assured him. “Once my leg is healed, it’s time for Operation Kick Me Out.”
“Good. Now, I’m an expert at this kind of thing, so listen up,” Dave said. “Things I’ve found that tend to tick people off: jumping out and scaring them, singing really loudly early in the morning, staring at them while they eat, and telling them their baby is funny-looking.”
Bo and Dave talked until night fell, and Bo settled into the workshop. Dave fell asleep, perched
on the fence.
In the house, Joseph anxiously paced back and forth, worried, while Mary slept. Then something caught his eye through the window—the brightly burning Star. That Star had appeared six months ago, when Mary said the angel visited her.
A brand new star, Joseph thought. That’s a miracle.
He looked down at Mary, sleeping peacefully on the bed. He sat down and grasped her hand. Her eyes fluttered open and he smiled at her.
He was ready for another miracle.
Chapter Seven
Three Wise Men . . . and Their Camels
Three months later, three camels moved through the desert. Morning had dawned, but the bright new Star could still be seen in the sky overhead.
Riding on the camels were three special passengers—wise men from a land far away.
The camels talked as they walked.
“You guys ever remember walking this far?” complained Felix, a camel with short brown fur.
They shook their heads.
“I thought we were going to make a left two deserts ago,” complained Cyrus, a strong camel with shaggy white fur.
“I can’t believe we passed that last oasis,” added Deborah, a camel with big brown eyes. “I’m getting thirsty.”
Felix gazed up at the rider on his back. “Maybe they’re lost.”
“Wise men don’t get lost,” Deborah argued.
“True,” Felix said. “So they must know where this birthday party is.”
“What makes you so sure it’s a birthday party?” Cyrus asked.
“Uh, have you seen the gifts these guys are bringing?” Felix replied. “Gold. Myrrh. Frankincense.”
“Could be a baby shower,” Cyrus said. “You bring gifts to a baby shower.”
Felix shook his head. “Not frankincense. What’s a baby gonna do with frankincense? It’s gotta be a birthday party!”
“What if it’s not a party at all?” Deborah piped up. “What if we’re on our way to do something important. Like . . . meet the Son of God?”
“You do need a drink of water,” Felix told her. He looked at Cyrus. “She all right?”
“Gotta get her out of this sun,” Cyrus said.
The camels kept walking until they reached the city of Jerusalem. They arrived at the palace of King Herod, where guards led them into the royal courtyard.