The Donkey

You know how you remember things from your elementary years. Each Palm Sunday, I remember this poem. It was Mrs. Paradisi that read it to us, grade eight, St. Bernard School. It's going into that little "At a loss for words" book.

The Donkey

When fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood
Then surely I was born.

With monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil's walking parody
On all four-footed things.

The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient crooked will;
Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.

Fools! For I also had my hour;
One far fierce hour and sweet:
There was a shout about my ears,
And palms before my feet.
Author Unknown.


I hope all those teachers that I know and don't know make as much of an impression on their young pupils as Mrs. Paradisi did on me. It has been easily a quarter century that I was in her class. That little saying " 2 Teach is 2 touch a life" couldn't be more true. If not for Mrs. Paradisi I would be a hairdresser today, not that that's a bad thing, but just not my thing. I really hate doing hair. Make it a good touch.