A Distant Memory

A Distant Memory

A Poetic Reflection on John 12:9-19

(Author’s note:  Today’s Gospel reading spoke to me as a donkey aficionado.  For many years, I’ve had a storyboard in my head of the plausible scenario I’m sharing in today’s reflection, since donkeys can live up to age 50.  Clearly, my reflection today is a story of my own making, and outside the Gospels, but I also believe when the Gospels mean a great deal to us, we all have a natural curiosity to imagine “what happened outside the story.”)

 

You know,

when the men came that day

and wanted to take me away, 

I didn’t like it one bit.

 

After all, 

I’m just learning all these things

that my mom does–

Giving people rides,

pulling carts,

helping plant crops.

 

My mom is my best teacher.

And everything I’ve done

in all this new learning

has been alongside her.

 

At first,

I snorted and kicked at the men

because I didn’t want to leave Mom,

But she leaned over and said,

“It’s ok.  You go–

I’m certain they will bring you back.

And if what’s going on

is what I think is going on,

we’ll have a lot to talk about.”

 

She was right–and I had so much to say.

 

“Mom!  I met a man.

He was the kindest man I ever saw,

even kinder than the family

that takes care of us.

When you look in his eyes,

it’s like you can see all the stars

In the sky,

and hear a faint tinkle of angels

in his voice.

 

“And the people!

You should have seen the people!

They were waving palm branches

nd cheering!

It was so exciting–

I really got into it, you know?

And I started prancing

with just a little more spring in my step

and my ears held a little higher

and I knew

he must have been somebody important.

 

“And when we got

to where he and the men were staying,

and he dismounted,

he came up to me and scratched my ears

and said “Thank you.”

And I saw those eyes again.

And I could see

all those beautiful stardust in his eyes again…

But I saw more.

I saw sadness and pain

and that he was also weary.

So I hee-hawed at him,

and made him laugh,

and then he patted me on the back,

and sent me on my way home with the men 

who had gotten me.”

 

Mom just stood there a bit,

Flicking her tail.

Her lip quivered a little,

and she moved her ears

back and forth, pensively.

 

“Son,” she finally said,

A long time ago…

When I was just a young jenny

not much older than you are now,

I remember I went with 

the man who takes care of us

on a very long journey.

He ended up spending the night at an inn,

and I was out in the shed with the other animals,

Some very nice cows that belonged to the innkeeper,

and the donkeys that belonged

To the other travelers.

There was even a camel out back!

 

“This couple came along late that night.

They were too late to get a room with a bed

so they spent the night with us instead.

Well, I could tell by looking

that the lady

was going to be having a human foal very soon.

I think her water had already broken

because her robe was all wet in back.

 

“Sure enough, she foaled that night–a little people colt.

They put him in a feed bunker with some straw

and wrapped him up in old cloth.

And when they were all asleep,

I could hear a tiny sound all around

as if the sky was singing to that little people colt.

I put my nose in the feed bunker

and breathed on him a little bit

(Just to keep him warm, you know)

Because it was a chilly night.

 

“I remember the smell of that little human foal.

I have never smelled anything like him, 

but it was a smell that went with the sound 

I was hearing in the sky–

that’s all I can say about that.

 

“I knew one thing for sure–

There was something very special

about that little human foal.

 

“I never thought I’d smell that smell again.

 

“But today,

when those men came,

I smelled THAT SMELL

on their clothes

and I knew

that they were taking you to him,

all grown up now.

And even if they hadn’t brought you back,

I would have been sad,

but I would have also been okay with it,

because I knew you would be with him.”

 

“You know,” I replied,

“I think I saw that lady too.

She was by the side of the road.

She was beautiful, but older now.

But she wasn’t cheering like everyone else.

She was crying.  I didn’t understand.”

 

“I don’t either,” Mom said,

“But I’m pretty sure

we’ll learn a lot more about this story…

And I’m also sure–

Although I can’t

tell you why or how–

That some day,

we’ll live on his farm.”

Maria Evans splits her week between being a pathologist and laboratory director in Kirksville, MO, and gratefully serving in the Episcopal Diocese of Missouri , as Interim Priest at Trinity-St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Hannibal, MO. 

 

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