(Told by the donkey who carried Jesus)

My name? Oh, I’m just a donkey.

Not the fastest, not the strongest, and definitely not the prettiest.

My legs are short, my coat’s kind of dusty, and my ears—well, they stick out more than I’d like.

Most days I carry firewood or water jugs.

Sometimes the neighbor’s children climb on my back and giggle until I shake them off—gently, of course.

Life isn’t very exciting for a donkey like me.

But one morning… everything changed.

I was tied up near the gate, munching on some hay, when two strangers walked up.

They looked around and said to each other,

“This is the one. The Lord needs him.”

The Lord? Me?

Surely they had the wrong donkey!

But before I could even bray a question, they untied my rope and started leading me down the road.

We came to a crowd—so many people!

Some were shouting, some were singing, and children were waving palm branches like banners in the wind.

The air smelled of excitement… and dust.

Then I saw Him.

A man in a simple robe, His face kind and calm.

He looked at me the way no one ever had before—like He knew me.

He smiled and placed His hand on my neck.

“May I ride?” He asked softly.

I nodded—or at least, I think I did.

He climbed on, and suddenly, I felt something strange.

Not heavy.

Holy.

Like peace itself had settled on my back.

As we walked toward the city, people began to cheer louder.

“Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!”

Palm branches brushed my hooves, and children spread their cloaks in the road ahead of us.

For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel small or ordinary.

I was carrying the King—the King of Heaven!

Me! A dusty, humble donkey!

When we reached Jerusalem, He slid off my back and stroked my mane.

“Thank you, little one,” He whispered.

And oh, what those words did to my heart!

I felt taller than a camel and lighter than air.

That night, back in my stable, I thought about it all.

I didn’t wear a crown. I didn’t fight in a war.

But I got to carry peace into the city.

So now, when people laugh and say I’m just a donkey, I smile.

Because I know something they don’t.

I once carried a King.

And that makes me the happiest donkey that ever brayed.

---

Moral of the Story

You don’t have to be big or famous for Jesus to use you.

Just be willing—and He can ride His love into the world through you.