Christmas was not complete without a visit from Uncle Joe. He was a very large jolly man with a most infectious laugh. He had always been my favourite Uncle because of his wonderful stories and his eccentric manner. He arrived a little after three on Boxing Day.

'Sam, my boy I have a great surprise for you,' he said laughing out loud, ' I have a friend who runs a small shop on the other side of town. I have arranged to meet him. Fancy coming with me?'

'Why yes uncle, very much,' I said excitedly. I donned my scarf and coat with much fussing from my mother to be on my best behaviour; we stepped out into the cold afternoon air. The snow had stopped but there was a reasonable dusting to provide a magical wonderland. The journey passed quickly; Uncle regaled me with numerous stories. Suddenly we came to an abrupt halt and Uncle pointed to a small shop frontage where a man in a bright green coat and red muffler stood on the steps.

'Why bless my soul if it isn't Mr Pickwick?' bellowed Uncle.

'Gracious me it's Joe Snodgrass as I live and breathe.' The two men clapped each other on the backs and Mr Snodgrass retrieved a large key from his pocket and placed it into the lock. He flung back the door and bid us both enter.

'Welcome to the Old Curiosity Shop,' he said making a slight bow.

'Now young fellow why don't you take a look around the shop whilst your Uncle and I have a small winter warmer. I left the two adults perched on stools next to a table proudly displaying several decanters and numerous glasses. I could hear the clink of glasses and a cheery conversation as I wandered deeper into the shop. There were books of every size and description; tables and chairs which must have once decked the drawing rooms of rich benefactors; discarded toys and puzzles; and numerous other articles that should be in a museum. I was about to enter the back room when I noticed something sticking out from behind a stack of books. I bent down and gave it a slight tug; the books toppled over to reveal a very worn, sad one eyed donkey. I could see it had been loved very much and I wanted to give it a home. The conversation between the adults stopped when Mr Snodgrass saw what was in my hands.

'Bless my soul, whatever do you have there?' he enquired.

'A donkey,' I said.

'What do you want with that?' chimed in Uncle.

'Can I keep him?' I looked from my uncle to Mr Snodgrass.

The shop went very silent, they looked at each other and burst into laughter.

'Of course you may keep him if that's what you want,' said Mr Snodgrass.

'I think he's special.'

The two men had a further drink and then it was time to get back home. Mother was surprised to see the donkey but said I could keep him in my room but after Christmas she would give it a good wash. That night I placed the donkey with all my other toys.

I was awakened in the early hours of the morning from a very odd dream. I switched on my bedside light and looked towards the other toys but the donkey was missing. I jumped out of bed and looked around the room, it was nowhere to be found. I slipped out onto the landing and made my way down stairs. I opened the door to the parlour and gasped when I saw the donkey sitting near the fireplace. I picked it up and held it to my chest as I did so something rustled inside its stuffing. I moved across to the window where the street light was pouring in and carefully undid the stitching. I removed a small package. I placed the donkey on a chair and slowly undid the package. I discovered a small note and a little chocolate in gold foil and a red wrapper. The note read - 'Please help me. I am so very lonely and I fear for my life. Victoria.' I stared in disbelieve at the date and the address on the reverse side of the paper. It was our house. I did not see the small figure approaching me; an ice cold hand touched my shoulder, as I turned a young girl with a tear stained face looked at me.

'I knew you would come,' she whispered.

There was a noise on the stairs, the parlour door flung open a figure appeared brandishing a stick, the little girl ran for cover.

'Help me,' she cried, 'help me!'

The room went quiet. I was all alone clutching the donkey.