STAR VI

Balthazar, well -recovered and rested, resumed his guiding role across the desert. 

A few days went by, and they finally discussed what had happened inside the palace. It was Melchior who brought it up. The three of them were staring at the sky late at night during one of their stops. It was what humans would call a nice weather night in the desert.

‘Why do you think the king kept all the stories of the Universe in one place? I mean, what for?’ Melchior asked.

‘I have been asking myself the same exact question’, Gaspar answered.

Balthazar smiled. 

‘What do you think, Balthazar?’ Melchior insisted. ‘I have been wondering why we met a king who keeps all the stories of the Universe hidden for himself.’

‘What would you do if you had the entire archives of the world inside your home?’ Gaspar asked.

‘I wouldn’t keep it for myself. I would try to understand what is the purpose of having them. But that was not what the king was doing. He was keeping them away from everyone else’, Melchior said.

They were getting to a high point in their conversation, and I was ready to make a strong appearance in their journey. My light became brighter, stronger, and incandescent in the sky.

‘There!’, Gaspar exclaimed. 

And the Three saw me.

‘Do you think it is just a star?’ Melchior was full of questions. ‘Look it is moving towards us.’

And I drew a sign with my rotation movements and left a message inside their minds. 

‘I feel…’ Melchior said. Now he was speechless.

‘We are closer than we thought,’ Gaspar said.

And Balthazar finally spoke:

‘What will we do with our story? What will we do when we find the Son of God? Will we keep it for ourselves? That is the question that has been knocking at the doors of our hearts.’ 

 

They didn’t get close to a conclusion, but the question was already inside their minds. And the answer was already written in the pages of their lives, they just had to remember it.

When they arrived at the village before Bethlehem, they were well- received by its people. They ate. They slept. And they got to spend time by themselves. Balthazar helped a little boy with burning wounds all along his arms and hands. He created a medicine with the ingredients he gathered in the village.

Gaspar sat under a tree. And when he put his hand inside his pocket, he found the paper his wife had given him right before his departure. He had forgotten about it, and he was surprised that it had survived the travel and the sandstorm. He opened it and read out loud:

 

“Do it with Love”

 

In an instant, Gaspar realized that the answer to all the questions and stories of the entire Universe had been hiding in his pocket. He smiled and closed his eyes. He prayed. And loved his wife with strong and pure intentions.

 

Melchior, instead, was fascinated by an old man, the village’s storyteller, who was sitting in the market. He was in awe of the number of stories that the old man had living inside himself and the way he captivated everyone’s attention. The old man was very good at telling stories but was even better at listening to what the audience needed to hear. He could read the life story of every person only by looking at them, making no assumptions, just listening to what the soul spoke in an invisible language. He had finished a long tale about a handicapped kid when he looked at Melchior. After that, he started saying:

‘Sometimes you have to lose everything to find it All. There are some paths in life that might look rocky from the surface, but those who walk through them know that an invisible reward lives within them. Maybe not a material reward but a powerful one: certainty.

This reminds me of a star. A beautiful star. A star that shines with a bright purpose in the sky. Does someone know what I am talking about?’, the old man asked and stared at Melchior.

They both knew and were ready to unveil the mystery of this encounter. 

‘I might know who you are talking about,’ Melchior said, standing out in the crowd.

‘Is it as shiny as they say?’, the storyteller asked while putting his hand against his chest. 

‘It is,’ Melchior said.

And the air was full of life. Even though the old man didn’t fully understand what he was talking about, he could feel it all. He knew when he was in front of a story written by the hands of God. 

‘I am afraid there is nothing more I can say about this story because it is not a story to listen to, it is a story to live,’ the old man concluded.

Melchior smiled because he realized that the story of his life was beyond what happened in it, beyond facts, the story of his life was about the invisible messages of his heart. And there are no words for that.