When Jesus was riding into Jerusalem, crowds met him, solemnly, as he smiled not. He was not to be crowned King, as they thought, for he knew he was riding toward his death.
One that would be torturous in length and cruelty.
It fulfilled a prophecy from the Old Testament where the prophet had declared, “O daughter of Jerusalem! Behold, your king comes to you, righteous and having salvation, humble and mounted on a colt, the foal of a donkey.
This prophecy from the Old Testament came to pass, as documented in the New Testament, which took people from suffering under the law into the day of grace. The small donkey was key in Jesus’ life.
Mary rode one to the stable where Jesus was born. Then he, to Jerusalem, the city where he would be crucified. The donkey is essential in this tale, particularly to Jerusalem, because it represented humility and peace. He did not arrive on a mighty warhorse, which would have symbolized conquering with force. The donkey helped to illustrate the offering of salvation and peace.
On the Rondarosa, we have two miniature donkeys, a specific breed known as the Miniature Donkey. The first donkey was a Christmas present a few years ago from my sister and brother-in-law, Rodney, who took us to pick up the donkey in his truck trailer. The breeder said, “Here she is.”
I don’t remember what she looked like, but there was another donkey several yards away.
“That’s the donkey I want,” I said.
“Well,” he replied gruffily. “That one costs twice as much as this one.” “I’ll write you a check.”
So, home we brought this precious animal with huge eyes and enormous ears.
Down the spine of her back runs a dark line, with a similar line across her shoulder blades. A cross.
These miniature donkeys are said to be descended from the one that carried Jesus into the city of His death. They explain their name and the cross on their back.
When Rodney let her out into the pasture with our two large horses, they jumped, kicked, and carried on something awful. The tiny one stood in the midst of the chaos and did not flinch.
“Oh, Rodney!” I exclaimed. “They’re gonna kill her.”
Calmly, he shook his head. “They're just letting her know that they’re in charge.”
Last year, we added a six-month-old baby donkey from Jerusalem to the barn. Her name is Belle Watley, named after the woman who loved Rhett Butler but knew he would never love her. She is so adorable that she looks like a Walt Disney character. Her eyes are huge with long lashes that curl up, and her mane is so short that it stands straight up like a ruffle of fabric.
Everything about her says that she should be starring at Disneyland.
She is so tiny, about three feet tall (Sweet Tea is about three and a half feet), that I held my breath when we put her in the pasture. After the big horses had acted with Sweet Tea, I was certain they would kill the littlest one. They looked up from the grass they were munching on and went right on with eating.
A few days after Belle Watley joined us, Tink came in from feeding and plopped down in a chair.
“I tell you, man, that Belle Watley is something. She knocks the big horses out of the way to get their feed, and they let her!”
No humility there.
A couple of months ago, overnight, Tink’s big horse, Charlie, went blind overnight. It’s unbelievable, but it happens.
We took him to the University of Georgia to see if they could help, but they confirmed Dr. Pam’s diagnosis: He was completely blind and would never regain his sight.
Since Charlie returned, the other big horse helps him, but it is the Jerusalem donkeys who stand by each side of Charlie and help to guide him to the barn or to water.
There is plenty of humility there.
Ronda Rich is the best-selling author of the Stella Bankwell series. Visit www.rondarich.com to sign up for her free newsletter.