Little Donkey

Ah, the nativity play, one of the high lights of any proud parents year, though at a couple of M’s early schools they seemed rather keen on an “alternative version”, which totally deprived me of the immense parental pride of seeing my little girl looking angelic if only for the time of the performance. Not that I wasn’t proud of her in her plays anyway, and she has done lots and I have enjoyed them immensely, but oh how I longed for the traditional Nativity Play!

I particularly enjoyed one in a church in Cirencester which was held for the residents of an Old People’s home and the local Special Needs School. I had the privilege of helping the old people, and it was such fun to see all the faces lighting up in the church when we witnessed the miracle of real sheep, goats (you have to be kidding), chickens, rabbits, and other assorted animals and a beautifully attired cast from the school with some very angelic angels and regal wise men. Best was the entrance of Joseph with Mary on a REAL Donkey!

The performance was made somewhat more interesting for me, as my mother had also brought along her lurcher, Amor. They were seated right by the sheep and Amie was exceedingly disconcerted by this proximity, but it proved only to be a Mexican stand off and everyone retired home unharmed!

My overwhelming maternal pride at a Nativity performance came quite unexpectedly though. Our local church here, in Hillesley, was giving its annual Carol Service which for some reason I decided to attend on a whim. I asked the Church Warden whether it would be alright to take Ellie into the church, despite the notice on the gate which says “No Dogs in the Church Yard”, and he graciously conceded.

Some of the children in the church were fascinated and somewhat distracted to see Ellie, but she had an unanticipated opportunity to show her worth even more. Ellie, as you may have gathered, is quite a practiced church-goer, like Amie, so I was totally unconcerned as to her behaviour despite the children’s curiosity. What happened next took me totally by surprise.

When the children had duly lined up at the altar to give their little Nativity Performance, the Vicar said:
“Oh, the only thing we seem to be missing is the little donkey.”

I do remember other animals being present in the church but none of them appeared to have the colour or size that might approximate a very small donkey. I said before I could possibly stop myself, being on occasion a somewhat impulsive person and recalling immediately how when Ells is sulking and not getting her own way, she bears a remarkable resemblance to Eeyore.

“Actually we have!”

Ellie was duly invited to approach the Chancel and I took her up on her lead. What happened next astonished not only me but I believe many present. Ells lay down by the altar without demur and proceeded to stay utterly still throughout the performance, even though I had retreated to the aisle. She did not do any of her normal “I belong to the local rent a dog group” nor hound the children in anyway.

Clearly a born performer, she stayed quietly right in front of the altar for the whole performance, and at the end retired most gracefully back to our pew. Being a brindle grey and quite large, it would seem that the children found her a most satisfactory substitute for a real donkey.

To the extent that one little boy, who was getting fractious as it was way past his bedtime so his mother decided to take him home, said very clearly on their exit:

“Good bye, little donkey, good night.”

Waving all the while, the child departed in his mother’s arms. My parental pride in my nativity star performer knew no bounds. After all those years I had finally seen my little girl, albeit the canine one, star as brightly as any angel in the school nativity play. It truly was a great Christmas present for me and I was told that everyone else enjoyed her involvement too.