The Miracle of the Headless Wiseman: The Story that Never Made it into the Bible, by Cameron Daly

This is not a reflection. This is a highly-accurate account of a miracle which went unrecorded in the Bible. Of course it is to be taken one hundred percent seriously.

The Miracle of the Headless Wiseman: The Story that Never Made it into the Bible

It had been a particularly long, hot day of travel, following the Great Star. They were perhaps a day’s worth of travel away from Bethlehem, where they would reach both the celestial wonder and the Child King who would be beneath it. Being acclaimed doctors of astrology, Gaspar, Melchior, and Balthazar knew–or at least, they thought they knew–from reading last night’s stars that they were in for an uneventful day, and a particularly uneventful night. Therefore, they chose not to post a watch that evening.

They were abruptly awakened shortly before dawn.

Screams rent the night air. The Magi leaped off of their blankets to find their entire assembly being stabbed to death by a pair of dark-clad men with crude swords.
Drawing their own swords, the Wisemen fought back, killing the robbers. When they were finished, the three of them were surprised to find that Melchior’s head had been severed during the fight. Even more surprising than that was that Melchior was still standing, and that his head–lying on the ground–was spitting out sand and saying, “Get me off my face!” It was a divine miracle!

After a few moments of astonishment, Balthazar and Gaspar recognized the potential complications of such a situation. If Melchior’s head was unattached to his body, his body wouldn’t be able to get its necessary nutrition, because anything that his head ate would probably just fly down and out of his chin. They realized that they would need to get him to the Lord quickly in the hopes of another divine miracle.

“There must be a reason for this,” Gaspar said to Balthazar, placing Melchior’s sputtering head on a blanket. “Melchior must be meant to live, or he wouldn’t have survived this.”

Guiding Melchior’s body, which was feeling for its head, to a camel, Balthazar agreed, adding, “We should leave as soon as possible if we intend to let that happen.”

Gaspar and Balthazar, over the sound of Melchior’s head spitting out dust, took stock of their situation. All of their attendants were dead, meaning that they wouldn’t be able to handle as many of their camels, which therefore led to them having to abandon some supplies. They wouldn’t have as much food, and they also wouldn’t be able to bring as many gifts to the newborn King as they had originally intended.

So, they each chose one gift, and left the rest in the desert with their excess supplies, their excess camels, and their dead servants. They felt bad for the camels, but it was either them or Melchior.

Gaspar and Balthazar gently placed Melchior’s protesting head in a saddlebag (which they left open so that he could breath–though they weren‘t entirely sure that it would make a difference), guided his body up onto a camel, and rode on their own camels on either side of him so that he wouldn’t fall off. His body still seemed confused, but it was also compliant–no blind swatting or panicked flailing whatsoever. His head was another story, and it made

a racket for the better part of the first half of their trip.
Presently, they stopped for their midday meal. Seating Melchior’s body on the ground next to them and removing his head from the saddlebag, they quieted him down and explained their plan to him.

“But what if it doesn’t work?” Melchior whined.

Balthazar sighed. “Please, would you try to have some faith? You’re lucky to be alive as it is! If anyone can help you, this newborn King can.”

They continued on their way again, Melchior’s head now grumbling from the saddlebag instead of yelling like a nut as it had before. After a few hours, when the sun had started to go down, they came in sight of the outskirts of Bethlehem.

“Are we there yet?” Melchior’s head asked for the seventeenth time. Reasoning that he had no lungs–and that people would look at them strangely if they had a head riding around in an open satchel–Gaspar quietly closed Melchior’s saddlebag.

“Won’t his body look equally strange?” Balthazar queried. So they stopped momentarily to raise a hood over Balthazar’s neck.

When they reached Bethlehem, people still looked at them strangely. At first, they attempted to travel quietly, so as to not draw attention to themselves. However, when Melchior’s head began making muffled noises from the bag, they had to start talking and laughing loudly to try and cover it up.

When they were nearly under the Great Star, they found an inn. However, none of the houses looked as though they were really quite underneath the star, so Gaspar and Balthazar–talking all the while–had to circle conspicuously around the buildings several times before they realized that the star was located directly above a stable.

“No way,” Balthazar muttered. Thankfully, there did not appear to be any other guests in the vicinity–of the inn’s or of the new King’s.

Dismounting themselves and Melchior’s body, removing his hood from his neck and removing his head from his saddlebag, they went up the pathway to the stable. Easing open the door, they found an exhausted-looking young couple with a tiny child. Upon entering, the Magi stared at the child, temporarily, overcome with awe by his unique, pure beauty. Likewise, the young couple stared at the Magi–or more specifically, the head and the headless body–probably overcome with awe for an entirely different reason.

The couple looked slightly worried, but they didn’t object as the Wisemen neared their baby.

Guiding their headless friend, Gaspar led Melchior the infant King, while Balthazar knelt and laid the head before the little Lord’s feet.



While Melchior’s hands grasped aimlessly, and his head looked pleadingly at the King, the little child’s eyes twinkled. He raised his thumb to his mouth and gently began to suck on it.

Suddenly, a Great Hand appeared in the sky, and the four full-bodied adults cowered in fear. Melchior’s eyes widened with terror, though he seemed unable to make a sound. Only the child seemed unafraid.

The Hand swiftly picked up Melchior’s head–he was near the breaking point of terror now–and placed it over his body, where it hovered. Then a strange, blue and gray bottle with strange markings–“LOCTITE_SUPER GLUE_GEL CONTROL,” among others–appeared in the Hand. As Melchior’s head lowered onto his body, the Great Hand squeezed the bottle. Clear liquid sprang from the bottle’s tip, sealing the skin of his neck to his head, making them one once more. Both Melchior’s neck and the infant’s face were glowing.


Then, as quickly as it had come, the Great Hand, the Hand of God, still holding the bottle, retreated into the evening sky, growing ever more distant until it disappeared altogether.

A look of joy came over Melchior’s face, and he bowed down before the true King, who was also smiling. His companions followed suit.

Presently, the three of them retrieved their gifts from the camels, presented them to their Lord and Savior, and departed.


Merry Christmas to all who read this! Please try to always remember the Reason for the Season, especially in such a time as now, when so many try to forget him–and what he came to do.  Meaning Jesus, not the Headless Wiseman.

by Cameron Daly

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