Summary

A child, fascinated by the annual visit of the Three Magi figurines, takes it upon themselves to protect the miniature kings from a rumored threat in their homeland of Orion, leading to a moment of revelation during a Christmas Eve church service.

Abstract

The narrative revolves around a child's deep affection for the Three Magi, small figurines that visit their home each year around the same time. The child, captivated by their grandeur and the aura of wisdom they exude, is troubled by overheard rumors that the Magi's lives would be at risk should they return to Orion. In an act of perceived heroism, the child steals the Magi to ensure their safety, hiding them away. During a Christmas Eve sermon, the child's grandfather speaks of the Magi's journey and the importance of protecting the sacred, leading the child to a moment of self-realization and a promise to keep the Magi safe, while also expressing a child's innocence and the profound impact of stories on the young imagination.

Opinions

The child views the Magi as grand and wise, attributing to them an almost divine presence.
There is a sense of melancholy and piousness in the way the child perceives the Magi's silent wisdom.
The child harbors a fear that the Magi are in danger, which prompts their protective actions.
The child's grandfather is seen as a source of wisdom and stories, his words carrying weight and influence over the child.
The child's actions are driven by a mix of innocence, a desire to be heard, and a deep sense of responsibility to preserve tradition and sacredness.
The community's reaction to the child's outburst in church, initially humorous to them, underscores the gap between childlike sincerity and adult understanding.
The child's determination to safeguard the Magi reflects a personal quest for agency and the power of a child's convictions.

The Three Magi

The Three Magi, miniatures, they fit in the palm of my hand but in my child’s eye — they were grand, as grand as the fading gold that adorned their raiments.

I don’t remember where the came from. Did the come from the East?

Did they travel over moors and mountains, did they follow a yonder star?

Did they take rest in the field by the fountain — before they visited our home?

They never overstayed our hospitality. For about a month, always around the same time of the year, they paid us a visit — they were the perfect guests — they bore gifts and exited in a timely fashion.

I had never seen people such as these before, with curled beards and caramelized and ebony skin tones that seemed to shine with an aura of deposed kings, a melancholy piousness — at other times when they thought I didn’t know they were staring at me, I’d swivel my head quickly and catch a look of holy serenity dripping from the coif of their beards.

They seemed to have the wisdom of the silent, as the silent nights of reflection, when speech was not needed to convey the miracles of wonder.

I heard rumors that they should not return to the Orient, that if they did their lives would be forfeited.

The Orion seemed so far away to me, even though I could trace him in the skies with my child’s finger — before I could even tell time. He seemed peaceful to me.

“Grandfather, why would the huntsman want to hurt the Magi?

Grandfather sighs, he wasn’t very talkative this night, something was irritating his thoughts — he was troubling.

He kept scribbling on paper as he sat at his desk by the firelight blazing in the hearth.

“Grandfather we must save the Magi, we must”!, I said to myself, why wasn’t anyone listening to me, I had a little of a lot to say!

And so — I took the Magi, I stole them, just as a thief in the night would, they weren’t prepared for my wickedness.

I stole them away and hid them, they had to be safe otherwise they’d never visit us again.

Christmas Eve, grandfather is standing in the center of our little village church, St. George, he is reciting his customary annual speech.

There he was, speaking about Three Wise-men, that have come, but have departed, westward bound no one knows their destination. It was a secret.

What!, I thought.

As I’m clasping fathers hand in church, I look around at everyone listening avidly to what grandfather was saying, my cheeks lighting up with warmth and colour just as the Christmas lights that twinkled all around our village.

Grandfather is speaking about the birth of a child King and how Three Magi, travelled from Orion to pay him homage. How they saved the Kings life by hiding his whereabouts — in the secret compartments of their hearts. I’d heard the story many times before.

Grandfather went on and on, as I fidgeted to get to the place where I had forgotten where I’d hid the Magi — hmmm, grandfather was talkative today, ufff!

“Be as unto a child, the with the wondrous eyes, that anoints the heart of the home with the sweet balm of myrrh, that breathes the essence of frankincense and emits gold… Be as the child that hid three visitors — from Orion, beneath the hay in the stable”, grandfather said, staring straight at me.

HUH?

“Will you promise to keep them safe grandfather because I’m not having any of this, I want you to forget where I hid them, I did”, I replied to grandfather in a rush of frenzied worry.

Everyone in the church stared at me, everyone laughed.

I began to cry (I don’t know why to this day).

“Why are you crying, my child”, grandfather asks.

I wasn’t about to answer that question, my dignity would not allow me, instead, I said,

“Grandfather they smell like the stalls, frankincense will not remove the odour, nor will the myrrh, be as a child grandfather or I will release Orions dog’s his belt and his bow and it wont be on the Magi.”

“On whom then? grandfather raises his eyebrow in question.

I look around our church at everyone staring from me to grandfather, laughing — so was grandfather.

On the lot of you I thought to myself but I bit my tongue.

I looked around the church one last time, blushing, I released my hand from my fathers hand, I wiped away my tears, I looked way, way up into my fathers eyes — he wasn’t laughing.

I walked towards the church doors, just before I ran, I said,

“I will tell you later grandfather, when we are alone, but first you need to promise me you won’t be listening, AGAIN!”.

“Did she just say, Orion”? I heard father ask as laughter broke out once again.

I had to find the Magi, or they’d forget to remember us. I was troubling.