Tonight, while everyone is asleep, La Befana will be coming to our house and filling my son's stocking with little gifts and candy. He will find it tomorrow morning, like many other children in Italy. We will leave out a small glass of red wine and some soft breadcrumb for her to snack on (the Befana likes her vino, but her bad teeth can only tolerate softer foods). She is not scary–although her features are less than pretty–and kids love her. Unfortunately younger generations are starting to forget how important she really is.
The befana is not a witch, as she is often recently portrayed. She's an ugly, hunched-over old woman in a raggedy scarf that sometimes flies on a broomstick (or rides a donkey) and brings happiness to children. Before Santa dethroned her, overtaking the global commercialization of Christmas, in many parts of Italy it was only la Befana who brought gifts to children on the Twelfth Night, marking the end of the holiday season. December 25th was solemnly celebrated as the birth of Jesus, a big family reunion, and involved eating lots of good food–period. No gifts.
The name Befana is the corruption of the word epifania, Italian for 'Epiphany.' That's when, on January 6th, Christians commemorate the visitation of the Magi to the Baby Jesus.
The Befana is a pagan figure belonging to Roman folklore, but according to a more religious version, her story is linked to the Three Wise Men from the Orient.
On their way to Bethlehem to bring Baby Jesus their precious gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh, Balthazar, Melchior and Caspar got lost on the way (winter clouds momentarily shrouding the comet?).
They happened upon an old woman standing in her cozy doorway, and asked her for directions. Despite the Magi's insistence she follow them to visit the Child, the woman peremptorily refused to accompany them. Later, feeling guilty for her harsh dismissal, the old woman prepared a jute sack filled with sweets and gifts for the Babe and set out to catch up to the Three Kings, unsuccessfully.
She stopped at every home on the way, dispensing her delicious bounty to the children she'd meet, in the hope that one of them was the newborn Jesus.
From that day, every year on the night before January 6th, she is said to roam the world, giving gifts to children, in exchange for forgiveness.
La Befana proverbially loads stockings with method: a fresh tangerine at the toe, and then pieces of unwrapped bubble gum, assorted candies, gianduiotti, lollipops, chocolate coins for prosperity, a few symbolic small toys and trinkets–like stickers or crayons–and whatever she feels is right for the child in question.
Those who haven't been good find their stocking filled only with coal, but that rarely happens! Just to keep the tradition alive, every stocking must contain at least one chunk of crumbly black sugar, shaped like a lump of coal.
One larger gift is displayed near the stocking, unwrapped and ready to be played with.
I've spoken to the Befana, and she tells me this year my son will be getting a brand new bicycle with training wheels!
Buona Befana!
