A Story of a Donkey

Once upon a time, there was a Man and his beloved donkey. The man had to go on a long journey to a faraway land, so he left his donkey and went ahead. However, this man knew his donkey loved him, so he left instructions for the donkey to follow the paths he took and that they would eventually meet up.
The donkey set off on its journey to meet its master with great enthusiasm. The paths were dangerous, and the donkey was attacked by robbers and lied to by con-men. Despite it all, the donkey pressed on with the hope that it would one day see its master again.
Days became months and months grew into years. The donkey had grown fat and lazy. It decided to sit in the middle of the road to rest and enjoy itself, happily forgetting its goal. Hours passed, and the year was 1517. A man wandering along the road saw the resting donkey and found it to be a obstacle in the road and gave it a big, great shove. The donkey was jolted to its feet and suddenly recalled its duty, and hurried on to meet its master.
The donkey continued on its journey, and many times got lost. There were times when it was attacked by robbers, and there were also times when it got lazy and sat down again. Yet time and again, there was always somebody to give the donkey a kick to get it up and running again.

Today, the donkey is sitting in front of me. I have been pulling at the donkey for a while now. Bystanders deride my efforts and some even think I'm being cruel to the donkey. 'Let the poor beast lie!' they cry, 'why do you have to be so mean?' Some even curse me for insisting that the donkey has to move. 'Your idea of moving may be right for you, but it may not be true for the donkey, or me!' But I know that the donkey has work to do, and so I continue pulling. I get tired, and sometimes the weight of the donkey is overwhelming. Perhaps its time to start pushing? Whatever the cost, the donkey has to move. Its master is waiting.