In Puerto Rico, where the tacky fat man known as Santa Clós arrived shortly after the American invasion, and where he today embodies the strident commercialization of Christmas, the legend of the Three Kings still provides a magical respite.
The Three Wise Men, one of them an African, all of them richly robed and attired, and mounted on the most beautiful horses, are carved into wooden figures by Puerto Rican artesanos with the same reverence with which they carve the images of the saints into painted wood artesanías.
As a child, my abuelo and abuela transformed every Día de los Reyes, Jan. 6, into a magical day. We went to their simple square cement house in Río Piedras on the eve of Three Kings to pick tall grass, the pasto, that we would place carefully in shoe boxes and place on their living room floor. This, my grandparents said, would be the food that would nourish the tired horses while the wise men distributed presents around the room to all of us eleven grandchildren.
"Abuelo," I said with characteristic skepticism, "I don't believe the horses can come through your porch into the living room to eat this grass."
"Well, mi'ja, just wait until the morning and you'll see," he answered patiently.
He then walked me to the front gate and had me look up at the sky where Orion's belt, three tiny, shiny stars in a canvas of dark indigo, was all aglitter.
"Those are the Three Kings and you can see how close they are to Earth now. Tomorrow they'll be here, and then they will go back home," abuelo said.
We would leave their house and go to ours, barely sleep with excitement, and get up to rush my parents to take us to abuelo's and abuela's house. Once there I would rush to the living room to find the shoe boxes empty and clear signs that horses had clopped-clopped tiredly over the gray tiles of the floor.
I was struck with wonder, which lasted a lot longer than any interest I ever had for the ugly fat guy in the tacky red suit and a bag full of loot.
How I loved looking at those three glittery stars and imagining the horses traveling through the sky. Even today, so many years later, I cannot help but feel my heart swell with pleasure and glee when I see Orion's belt twinkling and shining on a cold January night.
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