The three Magi arrive in silence and, seized by ineffable stupor, prostrate themselves. The star withdraws slowly upon seeing Mary, who holds the Child like a Eucharistic monstrance. Joseph, to one side, guards the mystery with elegant and vigorous modesty…
Melchor:
—Little and eternal King, we come from afar following a light that seemed to know your Name.
Gaspar:
—We bring the weariness of the journey and the joy of having arrived. Now… here… we don’t know how to speak like the wise, but your Heart understands us.
Baltasar:
—Teach us to kneel, God-Child, not only with the body: let life also bow down.
Mary (smiling, in a low voice):
—Come closer. He has known you from before, long before the star.
Joseph (with noble and chivalrous simplicity):
—Yes, yes, do as She says: enter without fear; here everything is small and poor, but true.
Melchor to the Child Jesus:
—I offer you gold, Lord, not because you lack anything, but because, though late, I learned that the heart needs to surrender. Child King, take away everything in me that weighs and shines: it is so useless!
Child Jesus (looking at him with serious and sweet eyes):
—I like gold when it is not kept, when it passes from hand to hand and becomes good for others. Then it truly enriches!
Melchor:
—Then take my years too: make them wise, free, and smiling.
Gaspar to the Child Jesus:
—I bring you incense, close God, to tell you that you are more, infinitely more than my questions. I wish to wrap your Body in perfume and let the column of smoke rise as good desires rise; teach me to pray without noise, with humble trust.
Child Jesus (inhaling the incense and smiling):
—My Father listens when the heart is silent and surrenders.
Gaspar:
—Teach me the silence that learns and the recollection that loves.
Baltasar to the Child Jesus:
—I bring you myrrh, Child who weeps, in case one day it hurts you to love so much! Teach me not to avert my gaze when the wound comes.
Child Jesus (caressing the myrrh with his little fingers):
—Bitterness turns to sweetness when it is offered. Pain transforms when it is loved.
Baltasar:
—Then take my nights, my Jesus. And my sorrows. And my solitudes. And my struggles. And change them into light.
Tell your Mother to teach us to keep all this in the heart, and Joseph, to show us how to obey without noise, and to return by another way. Child Jesus, stay with us, in us. And never stop lighting your star for us, so that joy may always flood us, which is You!
(They leave slowly. The star reappears… only for those who believe)