And what a show it was. Long before the start time all the Christingles had been given out and we were having to share them out one per family. The place was heaving with parents and grandparents with excited children.
The noise and chatter grew louder as did my concern that we were about to bring a wee timorous creature into the midst of this crowd. What might happen? Would the donkey literally kick off? Might some children be scared being at close quarters with such a beast?
I tried to reassure myself that A&E was right next door. I need not have worried; Strawberry was a star. She trotted round the church led by Joseph never once flinching at the many children wanting to get near her. She was patted, she was stroked, she was directed down narrow aisles, she was backed into her stable and not for one moment did she whinny or dig her heels in or toss her head in fear. She was in fact every child‛s idea of what that Christmas donkey would have been like – a patient beast of burden humbly doing her bit in one of the greatest dramas in history.
We were at that church for nearly twenty years and amazingly Strawberry never missed a single year after that. Even when the original owners of the farm sold up and moved away, the next lovely family inherited Strawberry and agreed to keep the tradition going. In
fact her duties were extended beyond Christmas to that other great festival requiring a
donkey, Palm Sunday just before Easter. Every year in spring she headed up a long procession from her farm through the parish where people came out specially to see her, and children took it in turns to climb up onto her shaggy back and ride her as we headed to church with the Hosannas echoing those that accompanied Jesus on his last ride into Jerusalem before his death.
After many happy years at that church we moved away and sadly lost touch with both Strawberry and her owners. Remember that by that time she was an elderly lady for a donkey in active public service so, for all we knew, she had long ago hung up her saddle and stirrups and retired from her annual parades.
It was many years later that we were surprised and delighted to hear news again of that charming donkey. We heard that her last owners had moved from the area not long after we had, but before they left they had managed to find a landowner who was happy to give Strawberry a new home. Our informants happened to overlook this land and had immediately recognised Strawberry as the star of those many Christmas services.
She had now been given the very appropriate task of acting as a companion for some ponies in fields just outside Stroud. They went on to tell us the sad news that she had died there a few years before but, rather wonderfully, they had been told of her last days. Strawberry had apparently become so frail that she could only walk very unsteadily for short distances, but such was the friendship that she had forged with her companions that at the end Strawberry was seen tottering down the field to her last resting place with a pony supporting her on either side. They stayed with her to the end. It was so good to hear this touching ending for Strawberry and to reflect on the good she had done in her life - the simple happiness that she had given not just to countless adults and children but also to her own four-legged friends.
Illustration used with kind permission of Alex Merry http://alexmerryart