The villagers continued to shovel dirt into the well.
They did not look down anymore.
For them, it was just work.
But inside the well, everything had changed.
The donkey was no longer afraid.
Dirt fell on his back.
Shake.
Step up.
His legs were tired.
His body was sore.
But his mind was strong.
"I am getting closer," he told himself.
Another shovel of dirt.
Shake.
Step up.
Now the light above looked bigger.
He could feel fresh air touching his face.
For the first time since he had fallen, he felt hope.
Above, one young villager paused.
"Why is it so quiet?" he asked.
The farmer looked uneasy.
"Yes… it is too quiet."
They walked closer to the well and carefully looked down.
What they saw left them speechless.
The donkey was almost halfway up.
With every shovel of dirt they threw, he climbed higher.
The farmer's eyes widened.
"He… he is climbing!"
The villagers stopped shoveling for a moment.
But then something surprising happened.
The farmer slowly smiled.
"Keep going," he said softly.
Not to bury him…
But to help him rise.
The villagers understood.
Now, every shovel of dirt was thrown with a different feeling.
It was no longer about ending something.
It was about saving something.
Inside the well, the donkey felt the change.
The dirt kept falling.
Shake.
Step up.
Shake.
Step up.
Now he could see the sky clearly.
Blue. Wide. Beautiful.
His heart beat faster.
Just a little more.
Just a few more steps.
The well that once seemed like his grave was now only a memory below him.
And then—
With one final shake…
And one final step…
He reached the edge.
His front legs touched the ground above.
The villagers stepped back in amazement.
The donkey pushed himself up with all his strength…
And climbed out of the well.
He stood there, covered in dust.
But alive.
Stronger.
Free.
The farmer walked slowly toward him.
For a moment, they looked at each other.
No words were needed.
Sometimes…
Life throws dirt at you.
But if you refuse to stay buried—
You rise.