I'm Henry de Hoon and I live in the Netherlands. This is a Christmas story I wrote a few years ago. The donkey is eye witness to the birth of Christ. I translated the story into English for a lady I know in Ipswich, Suffolk. She needed new stories for her Christmas carol club. She read my story in church and it has been circulating ever since. Hope you enjoy it.

The Stranger's Child
- a Christmas Story-

'There is a smell of warm beasts here', said the stranger as he entered the stable. And he was perfectly right. My friend Ox and myself were lying in the corner of the stable on a bed of straw.

'I don't mind, if it is a warm place to stay', replied the stranger's wife. She was looking out for a nice place to put her child.

'It's getting crowded', said Ox. 'If only they don't light a fire in here. The last time somebody did that, the whole stable was burnt down.'

'I believe they are sensible folk', was my guess.

We looked over the edge of the bar that separated our corner from the rest of the stable. 'Do you think that ox is tame enough?' said the stranger to his wife.

'You bet I am', mumbled my friend and lowered his head on the straw. The child was put into a crib. There it lay rather comfortably. It didn't cry. Just the odd little murmur now and then. The mother fed it from time to time. Later that evening some shepherds came to visit the stable. They were surprised to find a new born baby in their shelter.

'It is very busy in town now', explained the stranger to them. 'No place to stay ay all.'

'Ay, I suppose it is, Sir', said one of the shepherds. 'Because when we came here, we saw these rich, splendid looking tradesmen who walked away from the town in the direction of this very hill; all dressed up in lace and embroidered cloth...you never saw anything like it! God knows where they were going.' The stranger and his wife smiled at each other.

It was a very special evening for my friend and myself. Many visitors came; some dressed in embroidered cloth, others in rags. And everyone was merry and good tempered.

Many years later I was to encounter the stranger's child once more. He seemed to be looking for transport. There were many people about, excited, waving flowers and twigs. My legs were stiff and weak of old age, but nevertheless the stranger's child came to me.

'Surely you're not planning to ride this old fellow?' one of his companions asked anxiously. I feared his remark was justified. But the stranger's child stroked my ears affectionately. 'Whatever makes you think that?' he said. 'This fellow will be as fit as he was 33 years ago.'

And how true it was. My friend Ox had died a long time ago, but I carried the stranger's child on my back as if I was a youngster.

By: Henry de Hoon
Heerlen, The Netherlands