Star over Bethlehem - Agatha Christie [4]
And than a very odd thing happened. The donkey didn’t want to be naughty any more. For the first time in his life he wanted to be good. And he wanted to give the baby a gift—but he hadn’t anything to give. The baby seemed to like his ear, but the ear was part of him—and then another strange idea came to him. Perhaps he could give the baby himself …
It was not very long after that that Joseph came in with a tall stranger. The stranger was speaking urgently to Joseph, and as the donkey stared at them he could hardly believe his eyes!
The stranger seemed to dissolve and in his place stood an Angel of the Lord, a golden figure with wings. But after a moment the Angel changed back again into a mere man.
“Dear dear, I’m seeing things,” said the donkey to himself. “It must be all that fodder I ate.”
Joseph spoke to Mary.
“We must take the child and flee. There is no time to be lost.” His eye fell on the donkey. “We will take this donkey here, and leave money for his owner whoever he may be. In that way no time will be lost.”
So they went out on the road from Bethlehem. But as they came to a narrow place, the Angel of the Lord appeared with a flaming sword, and the donkey turned aside and began to climb the hillside. Joseph tried to turn him back on to the road, but Mary said:
“Let him be. Remember the Prophet Balaam.”
And just as they got to the shelter of some olive trees, the soldiers of King Herod came clattering down the road with drawn swords.
“Just like my great grandmother,” said the donkey, very pleased with himself. “I wonder if I have foresight as well.”
He blinked his eyes—and he saw a dim picture—a donkey fallen into a pit and a man helping to pull it out … “Why, it’s my Master, grown up to be a man,” said the donkey. Then he saw another picture … the same man, riding on a donkey into a city … “Of course,” said the donkey. “He’s going to be crowned King!”
But the Crown seemed to be, not Gold, but Thorns (the donkey loved thorns and thistles—but it seemed the wrong thing for a Crown) and there was a smell he knew and feared—the smell of blood; and there was something on a sponge, bitter like the myrrh he had tasted in the stable …
And the little donkey knew suddenly that he didn’t want foresight any more. He just wanted to live for the day, to love his little Master and be loved by him, and to carry Him and his mother safely to Egypt.
Gold, Frankincense and Myrrh
Gold, frankincense and myrrh … As Mary stands
Beside the Cross, those are the words that beat
Upon her brain, and make her clench her hands,
On Calvary, in noonday’s burning heat.
Gold, frankincense and myrrh. The Magi kneel
By simple shepherds all agog with joy,
And Angels praising God who doth reveal,
His love for men in Christ, the new born Boy.
Where now the incense? Where the kingly gold?
For Jesus only bitter myrrh and woe.
No kingly figure hangs here—just a son
In pain and dying … How shall Mary know
That with his sigh “’Tis finished,” all is told;
Then—in that moment—Christ’s reign has begun?
The Water Bus
Mrs. Hargreaves didn’t like people.
She tried to, because she was a woman of high principle and a religious woman, and she knew very well that one ought to love one’s fellow creatures. But she didn’t find it easy—and sometimes she found it downright impossible.
All that she could do was, as you might say, to go through the motions. She sent cheques for a little more than she could afford to reputable charities. She sat on committees for worthy objects, and even attended public meetings for abolishing injustices, which was really more effort than anything else, because, of course, it meant close proximity to human bodies, and she hated to be touched. She was able easily to obey the admonitions posted up in public transport, such as: “Don’t travel in the rush hour”; because