Little Donkey
Coffee Break Tale
Nandi was so upset. She stood on the stage, trying not to cry. The Grade Threes of Otsile Primary were practising their nativity play. And Nandi had to be a donkey!
Not even a whole donkey, but just the front half. She wore an ugly, brown sack. She had two silly cardboard ears.
In the middle of the play, she had to say, “HEE HAW, HEE HAW.” Very, very loudly.
Worst of all, Kgosi was the back half of the donkey. He held on to Nandi’s waist and he kept tickling her when the teacher wasn’t looking. Nandi hated being tickled!
Nandi stood stage-centre and said her stupid words, feeling so unhappy. Why couldn’t she be an angel – like Miriam and Tshepo and Bessie and Lebo?
Miriam and Tshepo and Bessie and Lebo wore shiny white dresses. They had cardboard wings covered in glitter. They had circlets of silver tinsel around their heads. They got to sing a beautiful carol:
StarsshinebrightinAfricawhenthe Babeisborn
HeartsarelightinAfricaonthis Christmasmorn…
Or – or why couldn’t she have been chosen as Mother Mary instead of Tumelano? Tumelano got to wear a silky blue scarf over her head. She got to hug the Baby Jesus and say lots of lovely words. Sleep,mypreciouslittleone.Your daddyandIwillkeepyousafefromharm.
“I don’t want to be a stupid donkey!” Nandi whispered. “I don’t want to say HEE HAW, HEE HAW!”
But Mrs Maribeng, the teacher, was clapping her hands.
“Well done, everyone! That was perfect! Remember to tell your family and friends to come tonight. The play will start at six o’clock.”
Nandi walked home, kicking stones. Idon’twantmyfamilytocome! she thought. Idon’twantmylittlebrothersto seemewithmystupiddonkeyears.
But when she got home, a surprise awaited her. Grandfather had arrived! He had come all the way over the hills from Phatwe to visit.
Nandi shouted. She ran to greet him. She loved her grandfather so much!
Grandfather climbed out of his donkey cart and hugged her close. Then he said, “Nandi, please fetch water for my donkey. She is tired and thirsty from all the hills.”
Nandi fetched a bucket of water from the back yard. She looked down at the donkey while it drank. How ugly it was! How stupid its long ears looked! And it smelled bad. So bad!
The donkey lifted its head. “HEE
HAW, HEE HAW,” it brayed, its big ugly teeth showing. What a horrible sound!
Now Nandi felt even worse. Why did she have to be a stupid, ugly, smelly donkey in the play? It wasn’t fair!
Just then, Grandfather came outside with his mug of tea. He patted the donkey, stroked its ears and said gently,
“Good girl, Precious! You rest now.”
Nandi was amazed. Why was Grandfather touching this ugly, smelly animal? And why name her Precious?
Grandfather smiled. “Nandi, Precious is a good friend to me. I am old now. I cannot walk far. This donkey takes me where I need to go. She pulls my cart up the steepest hills. Without her, I can’t visit you. She is kind and hardworking and patient and loyal.”
And he stroked the donkey’s ears.
At six o’clock the play started. Grandfather sat in the front row beside Nandi’s mother and her little brothers.
On stage, Miriam and Tshepo and Bessie and Lebo sang their beautiful angel carol while their angel wings glittered in the lights.
Then Tumelano picked Baby Jesus up from his cradle, hugged him tight and said, “Sleep, my precious little one. Your daddy and I will keep you safe from harm.”
And then it was time for Nandi to walk to the front, with Kgosi holding onto her waist. Nandi was wearing her brown sack. Her cardboard donkey ears were stuck on her head. Nandi stood, centre-stage, very straight and tall. In her loudest voice, she said, “HEE HAW, HEE HAW.”
She saw her grandfather smiling up at her. And she knew it was fine to be a donkey. Without the donkey, Mary and Joseph would have been stuck in Nazareth. Donkeys were kind and hardworking and patient and loyal. Grandfather had said so.
And Kgosi only tickled her once.