The Parade of Blessings, by Timothy E. Moore 3.25.24 Feast of the Annunciation. Feast of St. Dismas.
Mish-mish the donkey adjusted to the man’s weight. The beast didn’t seem to mind the burly carpenter’s bulk. No braying, though he cried for his mother until he saw his master, Eli, bring her out as well. Holding Momma-Darling, the colt’s mother in place, the boy, Eli, looked up to the rider, awaiting a nod of the head or a “Let’s go!” or a simple wave of the hand, some sign to proceed into the gates. Momma-Darling was necessary to motivate Mish-mish forward, and as an alternate to Mish-mish, should he get tired during the parade.
“They didn’t come out like this to see King Herod,” Eli thought to himself as he checked the reigns and adjusted the straps on Momma-Darling. “In fact, when the King came in, they booed him. His soldiers surrounded Herod’s palanquin and train. Others paid no attention to Herod at all, even though he was King of the Jews.
Eli gave Mish-mish a handful of grain, and gave Momma-Darling an apple while looking again to the gates, the awaiting crowd, and the nod from the rider. The handsome rider smiled at his friends as they asked him, “Are you ready?” to which he replied, “I am ready to lead the way: Come, follow me.” Eli liked this always-smiling man. Apparently everyone else did too.
Martha, Eli’s mother, stepped forward and patted Momma-Darling, whispering into her ear, “Mish-mish will be fine Darling. He is strong.” Then Martha whispered into her son’s ear, “Mish-mish will be fine, Eli, Momma-Darling won’t let anything happen to him.” Martha pushed aside a few strands of hair from her son’s brow and said, “You’re growing up too fast. God has great plans for you.” Eli smiled and blushed, thinking he was like Mish-mish and his mother like Momma-Darling.
Do Not Be Afraid
“Thank you, Momma. I want to do a good job for this important man.” He recalled how this moment came about. About a week ago, as an apprentice donkey tender under his Uncle Zadock, Eli had chased a ball over to the stables. The ball rolled to a stop at the feet of his stern uncle. Eli was showing his friends that Mish-mish knew how to kick a ball, and even knock it with his nose. The ball normally hung from a net over the donkey’s pen, positioned in the middle of the net with the rope tied to the beam of the stall at the top, and tied to an eye bolt at the base. The boys took turns showing Mish-mish how to knock the ball with the point of their head, and then they would swing the ball to Mish-mish, who then would swing his head and smack the ball back to one of the boys for return. Every time Mish-mish smacked the ball in this way, Eli gave him a carrot. “Why don’t you ride him, Eli? You could teach him to
chase the ball and then turn and kick it. That would be great fun and quite a sight.”
“Because he hasn’t been ridden yet. He’s still a foal. You remember? He was born last Passover. He’s only a yearling, not quite ready to be ridden. I’m sure he’d let me, but I want him to get a little bigger.” Mish-mish eyed the boys’ conversation, waiting for the return from his last hit, his anxiety anticipating the oncoming fun, now delayed as the ball swung from side to side, coming to a stop.
The ball suddenly went from still to full launch as the donkey smashed his jaw into the ball, knocking it so hard that it broke free of the net, flew across the paddock, bounced against Momma-Darling’s pen, and slammed into Zadock’s back with a thump, rolling to rest at his feet.
Wincing, Zadok turned on his tormentors forcing a sneer to hide his smile. “Games, Eli? You should put as much effort into combing your colt’s withers and rump and mane as you do teaching him tricks. It’s not the tricks that will bring us a good price for him. Now, put up your ball and go find a brush.”
“Yes, Uncle. Mish-mish is smart. And besides, I want to keep him and use him for breeding stock. I don’t want to sell him.”
“Then you’ll have to find some silver to buy him from me. He’ll pay for you and your mother’s keep here. Here you are without a shekel to your name and he’s at least worth five shekels. Haven’t you heard? There’s no such thing as a free donkey. And at the rate you’re going, this colt will be old and gray before you can buy him. Now, get to brushing.”
“Yes sir. But I’ll find a way. And I think he’s worth more than five shekels. But I hope I’ll get a family discount.”
“Discount? What discount? That IS a discount. Now get to brushing!”
“That reminds me,” said Uncle Zadok. “Two men came through yesterday, looking to hire a donkey. I offered them Momma-Darling, but they said they needed a colt, just for the day, here in the city.”
“He’s not ready yet, Uncle. I hope you sent them away.”
“He looks ready to me. Besides, with this rider, it may mean more shekels for you and me when we sell him. Or maybe they’ll like Mish-mish so much, they’ll buy him on the spot. It’s some sort of parade. Your donkey will be ridden from here to the Temple.”
“The Temple! But that’s, that’s…”
“Yes. The Temple. It’s only a mile or so.”
“He’s never been ridden. How do you know he won’t buck or crumble under a man’s weight?”
“Because of two things. You and Momma-Darling. You’re going with them. You’re going to take her and lead the colt and its mother through the crowds.”
“Crowds? What crowds?”
“They didn’t say. Just that it’s a new sort of parade as part of the lead up to Passover. The arrangements are made. The Master has need of our foal. The Master has need of you. Make sure they get plenty of water and rest and give them both an extra half-ration of oats and hay tonight. Early to bed for you too. And, Eli, wash up. Put on your nice tunic. A good salesman always looks prosperous.”
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Song. People were singing. The whole crowd was singing as one voice. “Hosanna! Hosanna!” Eli shivered at the intonations. It was beautiful, calling to him to sing with them. He looked up to the rider, who winked as he held up a finger, then called out to his friends. He heard him say, “Peter, James, John, Thomas,” and so on, “Come on, my people are waiting.”
“Hosanna, Hosanna, Hosanna to the Son of David!” Eli saw men laying their tunics on the street, women tossing flowers on the tunics. The clothes created a carpet from the city gate entrance as far as Eli could see in.
“Eli? Your name is Eli?” asked the rider.
“Yes, Lord.”
“Like the prophet, yes? Are you Elijah or Elisha?”
“I am Elijah, Lord. But I am just a boy.”
“Yes. Yes you are. And a little child shall lead them. And Eli the prophet shall appear. You, my child, shall be called the prophet of the Son of David; going before me to prepare my way. Do you hear them calling out, ‘Hosanna?’ They are waiting for us to save them.”
Eli nodded. “What are we saving them from, Lord?”
“They are all lacking love. They have replaced the love of God with the love of sin. We are saving them from their sins.”
“Will you save me also, sir?”
“Yes, Eli. Even if you were the only one.
“So now. Here’s what I want you to do, Eli: Take your donkey’s water bucket and dip these palm fronds in them and whip the wet leaves toward the people – to refresh them from the heat – to save them.”
“What, sir? I don’t understand.”
“Don’t worry. You don’t have to say anything. I’ll guide you from the donkey.
“What is our donkey’s name?”
“Mish-mish.”
“Hello, Mish-mish.
“I am ready when Mish-mish is ready. So, Elijah, you are in charge. We will go when you and Mish-mish are ready.”
Eli stepped forward, looping the donkey’s lead around one shoulder, and strapping the bucket around his other shoulder. The bucket was full of water though Eli didn’t recall filling it from earlier when he prepared the donkey for the morning’s task.
“Lord? What do I do if I run out of water?”
“Don’t worry. I Am the living water. You won’t run out.”
Eli smirked and drooped the thirsty palm leaves into the bucket, thinking there were maybe twenty or thirty “shakes” before he’d have to fill up.
Before stepping off into the parade, Eli cast a final glance at his passenger. He expected to prod Mish-mish, but the donkey was compliant and did not seem to be under strain. “Let’s go, boy!”
The rider’s disciples formed a wedge around rider, donkey and Eli, proceeding forward like a Roman cohort, calling “Hosanna! Hosanna! Hosanna! Hosanna in the highest. Blessed is He Who comes in the name of the Lord!” Then the disciples opened the front of the formation as the people laid down their kerchiefs, tunic, shawls and belts.
Entering the Parade of Blessing*
The crowd rushed forward yet kept a respectful distance, waiting for a look, a word, a blessing, an acknowledgment of their pain, their poverty, their suffering, their need for His love.
“Now, Eli, Now!” called the rider. And Eli grasped the palm fronds and flung the wetness across the crowd, much to their delight. Several people tried to catch the drops. Others reveled in the wetness, as if they’d never felt rain on their face. Eli saw a man begin to shout as he rapidly took bandages from his eyes, as if the bandages were burning him. “Hallelujah! Hallelujah. I can see!”
Eli dipped the palm again and again. People who were lying crooked on their tunic with their crutches next to them stood up to receive the water. One girl about his age, who caught his eye, had a horrible disfigurement – probably from fire – as if her skin was stretched across a wax tablet. He threw an abundance of water at her. Somehow he knew her skin would be restored. He looked back but couldn’t see her in the crowd, and then looked at his rider. “She is well,” he said at a level only Eli could hear.
The rider called out to many he knew: “Lazarus, Martha, Mary, great to see you. Zacchaeus! I’m so glad you could come out. Eleazar. Zachary.” It was as if he knew everyone and everyone knew him.
Eli checked his water supply. Plenty left.
The people began to mimic Eli, taking palms from the trees and waving them at the rider. Some were wet too. He felt the refreshing spray come in contact with his face. His rider laughed at this. “You won’t have to bathe tonight, Eli. By the time we are done, we will be soaked; you and Me and Mish-mish.”
“Lord, how far are we going?”
“All the way to the Temple. All the way to God’s Holy House. Are you getting tired?”
Jesus riding a donkey into Jerusalem
“Not at all, Lord. I feel we shall run out of people but yet there are more and more. Some trail behind you. Others are content just to see you. And still others seem as excited to see you now as they did at the beginning.”
“Perhaps they are impressed with my fabulous foal and my very talented prophet. Keep the dousing, Eli. We will not run out of blessings.”
It was true. The bucket never ran dry. The people, needy, infirm, seeking, continued to thirst for this man. Where at first, Eli simply did what the rider told him regarding the palms fronds, now Eli himself began to pray as he cast the water on the people. To this one, “Be healed,” to that one, “Rejoice!,” to another, “He is come!” or “Maranatha!” And Eli knew that his prayer was heard by the Wider, who healed, caused rejoicing, or became manifest in the heart of those who came in contact with Eli’s watery prayer.
-The End-
*Disclaimer: Some of the artwork referenced may have been created using artificial intelligence image generation models. While AI can produce novel visual outputs, these models are trained on existing artwork which raises concerns around copyright, consent, and ethical AI practices. The inclusion of any AI-generated art is not an endorsement, but intended to acknowledge the emerging creative capabilities of these technologies.