The Epiphany feast, known as La Befana, is an important part of Christmas festivities in Italy. La Befana has been an Italian Christmas tradition for much longer than Babbo Natale (Santa Claus), probably dating as far back as the 13th century.
La Befana originates from a fairytale about a woman who flies on a broomstick and brings presents to children in Italy on January 6, the day of Epiphany. This marks the arrival of the Three Magi, who present their precious gifts to the Baby Jesus: oro, incense e mirra (gold, incense, and myrrh). In case you were wondering, like I always did, myrrh is a sort of perfumed resin.
The legend is that during their long journey, the Three Magi knocked at the door of an old woman to rest and ask directions to Bethlehem. She offered them refreshment, and they explained that they were following a star because a new king savior had been born. They said they were going to pay homage and offer him gifts. When they asked if she would like to accompany them, the woman refused, saying she had too much housework. [This proved she was a casalinga (housewife), not a strega (witch), despite her appearance.]
The Magi left, but while she was sweeping her floor, la Befana reconsidered and decided she wanted to go along and see this baby king. She gathered some sweets as gifts and ran out, but the Magi were long gone. She traveled by herself, following the star, and left sweets at every child’s door in hopes of finding the baby Jesus. According to the legend, she continues her search to this day, broom in hand and a handkerchief on her head (further proof of her housewife-not-witch identity), filling socks with sweets and toys, but leaving coal for misbehaving children.
While waiting for la Befana, my sister and I would sing this poem/ song with my Grandmother:
La Befana vien di notte
con le scarpe tutte rotte
col cappello alla romana
viva viva la Befana.
The Befana comes at night
with worn-out shoes
with a Roman-style cap (?!)
long live la Befana!
I remember leaving a stocking out for la Befana before I went to sleep, and waking up to find candies, toys, and a small piece of coal in the tip of my stocking. I guess my parents believed in fostering a sense of Italian Guilt. I wonder how many years of therapy la Befana’s coal is responsible for…
In the weeks before Christmas and the Epiphany, my sister and I would stop to admire the windows of the best toy store in Bologna, under the portico near the center of the town. We loved seeing the rolling train, the dressed-up dolls and stuffed animals, knowing our parents couldn’t afford them. But we were never disappointed.
My father made most of our toys in the basement, after he came home from his day job as an accountant. Over the years, to list a few, I received a balsa wood rocking donkey named Gildo, a big doll house with furniture, an entire village of houses we could assemble, a theater with Marionettes, and many puzzles. They featured pictures of statues and famous masterpieces such as the Pieta and the Cappella Sistina by Michelangelo glued onto plywood and sawed into interlocking pieces.
Only much later did I understand the work and the love that went into all his creations. I will never forget those toys. I forgave him about the coal in la Befana stocking a long time ago.
A picture of Gildo and me on Christmas morning 1952. (Taken and developed by my dad.)
