Free Saving Simon by Jon Katz Page A

the feed it took to keep him alive. He was thinking of killing him, he announced.
    His children, who dearly loved the little donkey, begged their father to keep the donkey alive. But the farmer held his ground. “It’s wrong,” he told his children, “to sell an animal that can’t do a good day’s work.”
    The farmer’s oldest daughter came up with a suggestion. “Father,” she said, “let’s tie the donkey to a tree on the road to town, and say that whoever wants him can take him for nothing.” The farmer agreed. The next morning, he walked the little donkey out to the road in front of their home and tied him to a tree. He could not, he said, imagine anyone wanting to take such a worthless animal, even for free.
    Many people passed the little donkey and walked away. It seemed as if no one wanted him. Then two youngmen appeared. They looked at the donkey and, without hesitation, asked if they could have him. The farmer, an honest man, told them the truth: “He can carry almost nothing,” he warned.
    “Jesus of Nazareth has need of it,” replied one of the men. The farmer had heard of Jesus, the great teacher, and he could not imagine what need of the donkey he might have, but with relief, he turned the animal over to the two men.
    They took the donkey to Jesus, who stroked the grateful animal’s face and then mounted it and rode away. So it was that on the day we call Palm Sunday, Jesus led his followers into the city of Jerusalem riding on the back of a small, quite ordinary little donkey.
    The donkey loved his master and devoted himself to him, carrying him everywhere, following him everywhere he went, even to Calvary.
    When Jesus was nailed to the cross, the legend goes, the donkey repeatedly tried to approach him, as if to carry him away to safety. At the sight of his master crying out in agony, the donkey brayed and rushed toward him, but was brutally beaten back by soldiers and by people in the cheering crowd.
    The donkey was poked and prodded by spears and swords and pelted with stones and rocks. Grief-stricken at the sight of Jesus on the cross, the donkey tried again and again to come closer, but was driven back each time.
    The donkey turned away and hid in a nearby alley but would not leave. It was then, says the legend, that the shadow of the cross fell upon the shoulders and back of the donkey, and there it stayed for all time, imprinted on the backs of donkeys to this day.
    It is this story that seems to have first cast the donkey as the spiritual and long-suffering companion of human beings.
    Today, donkeys continue to labor, often thanklessly, on behalf of humans. They come in all shapes and sizes, and several different colors. They live in deserts, on mountaintops, in villages and on farms. While the classic image of the donkey in Renaissance paintings is sacred and powerful, the modern image of the donkey is less lofty. When we see images of donkeys at all, they are generally hauling freight around some overcrowded village.
    The relatively few donkeys that live in America are either working as guard animals, protecting sheep and alpacas, or living as pets of “gentlemen farmers,” often keeping high-strung horses company.
    Donkeys have a great reputation for stubbornness, but it seems to me this trait is misunderstood. Donkeys may owe their survival to their willfulness; they are believed to have a stronger prey drive than horses and a weaker connection with man. It is difficult, if not impossible, to force or frighten a donkey into doing something it perceives to be dangerous for whatever reason.
    Some of this resistance can be eased or even eradicated by trust. Once a donkey gets to know and trust a human, it will often go along with reasonable requests. They are curious and eager to learn, but they seem to have seen enough of humans to be cautious around them. This is something many struggling species have not figured out, and it has probably saved many donkey lives.
    I’m drawn to the