Daphne the Curious Little DonkeyAnd the Spring Snow Storm

This story comes to us from Pamela Perkins, who has worked with and for children in various capacities since 1970. A former Waldorf teacher, LifeWays graduate and home provider, she now delights in being with her five granddaughters, plus creating magical needle-felted puppet stories and writing gentle tales to nurture young and old. She lives in the Upper Valley of Vermont, and is working on her new writing project Silver Seedlings – Nurturing Tales for the Young and Young at Heart.

This is a story about a donkey, an unusually curious little donkey with a sense of adventure. The name of this donkey is Daphne.

This is also a story about Maeve, a very kind and patient girl who takes care of Daphne, and who has many adventures because of her.

Daphne and Maeve live on a small farm in Northern Vermont, with Maeve’s parents and many animals. The farm and its’ fields are surrounded by gently rolling hills that are forested with evergreen trees, as well as maples, oaks and birch.

Several streams flow through the property. The stream flowing out of the woods along the edge of East Meadow empties into the farm pond. Another pond, deep and cool and lovely for swimming, lies over beyond South Hill, through the pine grove, and down into a grassy open area surrounded by many sugar maples.

Daphne has her own stall in the barn, which she shares with many scatter-brained chickens, a beautiful little goat named Pumpkin, and an old gentle draft horse named Frederick. A Jersey cow with soft brown eyes named Velvet is awaiting the birth of her first calf.

This is a story about one fine sunny day in very early Spring, when Daphne was feeling very, very curious, and had an idea. This led to the following adventure. 

Chapter One: Daphne Makes a Choice 

March had ended, but Old Man Winter still lingered in the valley where Daphne and Maeve lived. Large mounds of snow, icy patches and chilly winds made everyone sigh and wish for Spring.

But on this particular morning, the sun had come up into a beautiful bright blue sky. The air was surprisingly mild. Maeve, who was six, went into the barn as she always did after she ate her breakfast, to bring Daphne fresh water and clean sweet hay, and to muck out her stall and put down clean bedding straw. Daphne eagerly sniffed her pocket for her daily treat; today it was a small juicy apple.

Daphne felt the slightly warmer breeze coming in through the barn door. She smelled a hint of new things … the first, faint sign that maybe, just maybe, ‘something’ was happening outside. She was very curious. 

Daphne was still quite a young donkey. This was her first Spring, for she had been born just as Summer waned and Autumn set in last year. The new longer days, the brighter sunshine, and now, the mild air smelling like -??? She was not sure what!  but it made her feet itch to explore.

Maeve noticed that Daphne was squirmy and restless. She told her, “Now you behave and stay inside your stall today like a good little donkey. When I get home from school, I will take you outside for a walk.” 

Maeve told her this because several times in the past, she had jiggled and joggled the latch to her stall open and even managed to paw and scratch at the barn door and squeeze outside. Oh, she had had some adventures and gotten herself into mischief before!

Daphne was only half listening … she usually only half listened. Sometimes that half remembered what she was supposed to do. Today all she heard was, “Go outside for a walk”. The other half of her little donkey mind KNEW that meant with Maeve, but the curious part was stronger.

Today Maeve was going to school. Today Daphne was going on an adventure…

Chapter Two: The Escape

It was a chilly but sunny April day – April the first, as a matter of fact. The chickadees sang gaily as they flitted about their early springtime tasks. Daphne listened to their twittering and chirping and sighed. She was so very tired of being in the barn. She was bored.

After a while, she thought that she heard someone call her name. Maybe it was her friend Chirpy Chickadee. Chirpy lived in a large, thickly tangled bush next to the barn. Yes, yes, now Daphne was sure of it. She leaned against the door of her stall to hear more clearly. 

“Ahem!” said Frederick, the gentle old draft horse, who had been watching Daphne closely. “You aren’t getting any of your ‘ideas’, are you? I notice that you are leaning pretty heavily on that door.”

“Oh,” replied Daphne, startled. She opened her eyes wide and looked innocently surprised. “Oh no, I was just trying to hear what Chirpy was saying to me.”

“If he IS speaking to you at all, which I doubt, he would probably be saying the same thing that I am about to say, “NO, Daphne. No adventures on your own. Wait for Maeve.” 

 Daphne, like many other little donkeys, had a stubborn streak. She also had a good sprinkling of temper that sometimes got the best of her common sense. So even though she had had no particular intention of breaking out of her stall and the barn, she was now determined to do so. 

That naughty and curious little donkey turned right around and kicked her door open and shot a smug look at Frederick as if to say, “Well, you can’t tell me what to do.” 

Frederick clucked his tongue at her and let out a long sighing neigh. The hens, flustered by the sudden noise, squawked and flapped all over the barn. Violet rolled her big brown eyes anxiously and Pumpkin blatted. 

Daphne paid them no heed. She trotted over to the big barn doors. They were slightly ajar. She pushed with her nose. She turned around and shoved with her backside, then kicked with her heels. The door creaked open. Daphne peeked out. She looked to the left. She looked to the right. No one was outside. 

At first, Daphne was content to stand in the barnyard and enjoy the lovely warm sunshine. Then she sniffed and stretched out her neck. She smelled … Green! There were tiny patches of tender new growth just outside of the corral. Trotting over to the fence, Daphne tried to reach through the fence to nibble; those delicious looking leaves and shoots were just out of reach.  Daphne was suddenly very, very hungry. She wanted to be on the other side of the fence. She had an idea. Daphne casually pushed against the boards here and there, hoping to find a weak place. Sure enough, one post by the maple tree was slightly rotten and wiggly.

She pushed. She shoved. She prodded. She poked. Suddenly the wood gave way with a ‘carrack!’ Daphne quickly glanced all around her … the coast was clear. Through the fence she went and out into the wide world. 

She jumped for joy, kicking up her heels. She twisted and turned. She rolled in the thick, rich-smelling mud. She delicately nibbled the first thin blades of green grass and flat rosettes of dandelion leaves and tasty wild plantain that had sprung up where the snow and ice had melted off. Mmmmm! Delicious! On and on she went, munching here and there, feeling free and excited to be on an adventure.

When she reached the edge of East Meadow, she saw that the ice was almost completely gone from the Farm Pond. All around the edges, the clear water lapped gently in the breeze. She took a nice, long drink of cool, fresh water. Looking up and around her, she thought that perhaps she should go back to the barn now; she was tired from her running and leaping, and her tummy was full.

She had never been this far from home alone before and was feeling a bit nervous. She knew quite well that she should have waited for Maeve and NOT gone outside by herself. “But,” she thought, “I can probably sneak back into the corral and barn without anyone noticing that I escaped. I can go back into my stall and take a nice nap while I wait for Maeve to come home from school. She will think I am such a good little donkey for not running off even though my stall door broke open.” 

Daphne looked towards the forest, then back towards the barn. Impulsively, she decided what she would do next.

Chapter Three: The Forest 

Daphne peered ahead at the forest. Snow still lay thick around its edges. The trees were bare, although a faint haze of color had begun to glow around them as their buds swelled in the warmth of the early Spring sun. The evergreens made cool shadows on the frozen ground. She felt very, very curious. Daphne had an idea.

I wonder if there is anything good to eat in the forest,” Daphne thought to herself. Quickly she made up her mind. She thought that she would just take a quick look to find out before heading home. She trotted around the pond and over to the tree line and hesitated for a moment.

Just then, a group of blue jays began to scream, “No! No! No!” at her. “Hmmph! Phooey!” retorted Daphne, her temper suddenly getting the best of her. “I am not a baby anymore! I am big enough to take care of myself!” She proceeded to trot right in among the trees, without looking back and only half listening to what the birds kept trying to tell her.

Daphne had not been paying attention to the sky, nor to the increasing chill in the air. She had been so busy nibbling and racing around that she had quite forgotten to notice anything else. Now she was being a stubborn and foolish little donkey, as she ran as fast as she could from those noisy jays.

For a while they followed her, making ever so much racket. She stopped briefly to look up at them and shouted crossly, “Go away!”. Then they shrugged, gave up and flew out of the trees and back across the meadow. If she had stopped to listen to their warning, she would have run back home as fast as her sturdy little legs could carry her. But, she did not. Her temper kept her ears from hearing anything, except the voice inside her, which said, “Those busybodies just want to spoil my fun. “

And thus, it was, that the sudden, late winter storm came pouncing down on the valley, like a bobcat on its unsuspecting prey. Before Daphne realized what was happening, she was surround by swirling snow, an icy wind, and darkness. She was alone in the forest, lost and frightened. 

Chapter Four: The Storm          

Meanwhile, back at the farm, Maeve’s friend and across-the-street neighbor Ginger and her grandson John-Peter, who was four, were enjoying tea and homemade cookies in the cozy farmhouse kitchen with Maeve’s mother. Outside the snow was falling in earnest, in thick spiraling flakes. School was closing early that day because of the storm. Maeve, like many of the children in the small town, walked both ways to school.

Suddenly the door burst open, and Maeve came panting in, the snow swirling right in with her. She slammed the door shut, dropped her backpack onto the floor, and pulled off her jacket and boots. She was so relieved to be safely home! Already six inches of powdery snow had fallen and there was no sign of the storm slowing down. Ginger stood up and thanked Maeve’s mother for the cookies and tea, then helped John-Peter bundle up and gathered her own things. It was time for them to go back to her house.

Maeve sat down at the big kitchen table to warm up and eat. Then her father came inside, and everyone discussed how they would work together until both the barn and house were secured for the storm. A Nor’easter could easily last several days. The chores needed to be done as soon as possible. They decided to take care of the animals and secure the barn first.

Because of the increasing intensity of the storm, everyone dressed in extra layers. Then they discussed their plans: the animals would need grain and hay, plenty of fresh water, plus deep bedding straw. Frederick and Daphne would get some warm mash. Violet needed to be checked, in case she was going into labor. She also needed some silage. Then, they would head back to the house where they would make sure that the firebox was full, take out extra candles, matches and lanterns to store on the kitchen counter, and then fill the extra water cans, in case the power went out.

Fortunately, the barn was connected to the house by a partially covered walkway, but still, the snow and wind blurred everything and made it hard to see. Maeve’s father struggled to pull open the side barn door. Once all three were inside, he slammed it shut again. Then they all turned around. The first thing they noticed was that the main barn door leading to the corral was ajar and a sizeable snowdrift filled the entry.

The second thing they noticed was Daphne’s empty stall. They looked at each other in disbelief. “Noooo! “ whispered Maeve. “Not again, not today!

Maeve knew how serious this might be and tried not to cry. “Well,” she said bravely “We’d better take care of what is right here first: hungry animals, a mountain of snow to shovel out, and a door to secure.”  Her mother put her arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick hug. Her father smiled in assent. They all silently sent out hope that Daphne would survive this adventure, and also vowed to scold her quite firmly when – IF – she made it through. 

Daphne did survive the storm; she was rescued; she caught a cold; and was a miserable and sorrowful little donkey with a big stuffed nose for two weeks afterwards.