What I might remember
If I was hypnotised to remember who I was in some former life, who knows who I could have been? No limits to the splendour my mind could come up with, but somehow I don't think I was anyone remembered by posterity.
Perhaps I was the fourth wise person. I never got mentioned, because I wasn’t a wise man, but a wise woman. I was the one who asked for the way when we were lost, the one who remembered to pack a spare blanket and a bag of treats for those moments on the trail when you really need some extra energy.
When the men went to speak to King Herodes in Jerusalem, I visited with the wife. She told me what the king would do if he learned where the newborn king of men was. Of course I had to make it sound like an angel told me – and she was pretty enough to be one – but at least they listened.
In the stable the others brought gold, incense and myrrh. Nobody remembered what I brought to Maria. I had warm clothes for the child and the mother, food for them all, herbs and little things a woman needs. While the others admired the baby, I cleaned and cooked, and told Maria she needed to make sure they got out of there quickly, since the King in Jerusalem would be looking for her baby.
I was forgotten, as the wise women tend to be. The three wise men have been celebrated through the centuries. I was lucky to live when I did – I was ignored, but not burned.