These days, at my mother’s house, I was trying to remember what Twelfth Night used to be like when I was little; and when I still had the hope that the three Magi would come at night and leave something for us at the foot of the tree decorated by Maruxa. I suppose that it is because our house has not changed much, and because the Christmas decorations continue to be almost the same and continue to be everywhere: on the living room curtains, on the hallway pictures, on the stairway handrails…but the tree has changed because twenty years ago (when my father died) we went from a small, living tree to an artificial one, God knows made out of what material, that still remains standing after many years.
My sisters reminded me that as a child, I had a special affection for small things, like the Pinypon dolls, an affection that lasted many years because I still have with me a couple of them that have made their way around the world at the bottom of my suitcase. And then, I thought about those letters to the Magi that I dropped at one of the «magic» mailboxes that were spread over the city, and no matter how much I looked back, I couldn’t remember how I asked for what I wanted (nor even what I wanted!). Suddenly, in an attempt to regain that hope, I began to imagine what I would include today if I could write a letter asking for what I wish for most hoping that they would grant it, and I spent a whole day thinking about this. And I think that the letter could be sincere and not too long, something along the like of: next year, I hope we are all the same around the table, that we don’t lose the hope to live, and that each one of us can be capable of «bringing light» to our surroundings, to help build a kinder, less cruel life.