I'm from Gaspar.
A poor litigation attorney from my earliest childhood, I chose him because it seemed like no one wanted him.
Baltasar, what life is, was the favorite of almost everyone because he was black.
It is scary to think what kind of xenophobic racists some of those children have become, those girls who made the longest line to give him his letter and be photographed with him.
Melchior was also popular, because he resembled grandparents in general and Santa Claus, that great enemy, in particular.
His gentle gray hair and white beard, venerable as his age, inspired affection, confidence.
Gaspar, my poor thing, did not have any particular sign.
Younger than Melchior, whiter than Baltasar, he had the most ordinary brown hair, matching a beard as vulgar as his color.
His row was always the shortest, even though he was in the center of the stage.
Since almost no one loved him, I decided to love him and still, so many years later, I consider him my only favorite king.
The Three Wise Men have always seemed the best of Christmas to me.
This year they will be more so than ever, because they embody the only tradition that will not suffer the consequences of confinements, perimeter closures and capacity restrictions.
As they travel on camels that are capable of climbing up to the attics of the highest houses, they will not care whether or not preventive measures against the pandemic are hardened.
In these times of uncertainty, the only thing we can be sure of is that Melchor, Gaspar and Baltasar will arrive, and have a drink, eat a little roscón, wait for their camels to drink the water, to eat the lettuce that they will find on the balcony, and they will leave gifts, more or less, for almost everyone.
This year there will be boys and girls who will hardly find anything when they get up in the morning, but the most fortunate, sons and daughters of workers with a fixed contract and guaranteed salary, will live that day with the same illusion, the same happiness without conditions, that in those years when hardly anyone knew the word pandemic.
They won't be able to go to their grandparents', godparents' or uncles' houses to harvest gifts, but no one will take away the joy of awakening.
This year, the Three Kings will be more magical than ever.
It's a little scary to think of 2021. Suddenly, things that have never scared us before now are scary, hope, faith in a better future, the prospect of leaving misfortune behind, because our margin for disappointment is so immense as the limits of the misfortune that 2020 has brought us. If all goes reasonably well, we will remember the year that we have just opened as the year of vaccination, which brings us no longer the light, but the authentic exit from that sinister tunnel in the that we have lived so many months, almost all of the year that we will always remember as the coronavirus.
Hopefully that is the case, because the vaccine, all those different but equal vaccines, will then be capable of bringing us much more than just immunity against the disease.
They will bring jobs, open stores, paper bags full of recently bought objects in the hands of many people who walk through shopping streets.
They will bring back family meals, dinners with friends at our favorite restaurants, after-hours drinks.
And the springs with fairs, and the summers with free beaches, without capacity or mask, and the traveling vacations, and more jobs, and more open stores, and more paper bags full of recently bought objects ... And above all That freedom that seemed so silly to us, that of going out into the street without thinking about anything else, just to go out, to walk, because it gives us a little air.
This year it is very important that we all remember to write a letter to the Magi of the East.
We adults will not need paper or pencil.
We will not have to look for an envelope, or buy a stamp, or put it in a mailbox.
While the children calculate how many things on their list they will find when they get up on Three Kings Day, for us it should be enough with a wish that is valid for all, to recover our life, the normal life, the life of before.
That's the only thing I've asked for, and I'm sure that Gaspar already knows it.