On the eve of the Epiphany, while the whole world is sound asleep, a character both feared and loved by children roams the sky, travelling over rooftops, bearing a shabby cloth bag full of treats. Her name is Befana and legend has always portrayed her as a homely old woman with dry, withered skin and dressed as a peasant, a sharp contrast to the rosy-cheeked Santa Claus.
On the night of January 6, Italian children dream of Befana, catching glimpses of her as she makes her way down their actual or imagined chimney, filling their socks and shoes with every imaginable sort of sweet – as well as the occasional bit of coal thrown in.
Our childhood accounts of Befana, as were told to us by our parents, have left us with memories tinged with nostalgia. A fearsome character, she wearily wanders the earth between the fifth and sixth of January, magically transforming – at the end of her voyage – the whole world, which becomes abundant and prodigious: trees heavy with fruit, animals bestowed the gift of speech, spring and river waters transmuted into gold.
Children eagerly await their gifts. Young girls cast the horoscopes of future nuptials by the fireplace, tossing olive leaves on hot ashes. Young and old alike get together, going from village to village, singing the befanata chant, amid sounds and clamour of all sorts.
I remember the befanata of my childhood home in Viareggio as if it had just taken place yesterday! The village kids would fashion a dummy out of rags and sturdy plant fibres, making her out to look like an old shrew. Then they laid her out on a cart and carried her about on their shoulders. At the beginning of the night, in the midst of rowdy whistling and hollering, they made the rounds of the neighbourhood streets before arriving at the Piazza Grande, where they then lit up the firewood and set the Befana ablaze.
For the young, it was a night of terror; for the older folk, it marked the conclusion of the Christmas celebrations. As the Tuscan proverb goes, “so with the Epiphany, the holiday comes to an end.”
The myth of the old woman with the broom, who brings cakes and sweets to children, originated with the Christian tradition of the Epiphany and the gifts brought by the Magi to Jesus’ manger. The Magi came from the Orient to Jerusalem and asked, ‘Where is the new King of the Jews? We beheld His star in the Orient and came to worship Him.’
The Epiphany remains today one of the most solemn celebrations of the Church, preceding the celebration of Christmas. The Latin and Greek churches have always celebrated it on January 6. The Greeks call it Theophania, the Feast of all feasts. For the French it is La Fête des Rois.
For a time in Italy, for pragmatic reasons, the feast of the Epiphany was moved to the Sunday after January 6, in observance with the new liturgical calendar of the Church.
However, uprooting a religious and secular tradition as deeply rooted as that of the Befana was a harsh blow for Italians. Public outrage erupted immediately; and as per Vox populo vox dei, the feast of the Epiphany resumed its original place in the calendar.
This simple and glorious story of the Magi has held its place in our memory since childhood. The God who drew the non-Israeli Magi, subjects of a pagan nation, to the child in Bethlehem, wanted it to be known that salvation and redemption were not restricted to one people but possible for all the peoples on earth. The Epiphany gave rise to this movement of human, spiritual and social redemption.
