The Legend of La Befana

The Legend of La Befana

Sweep Away the Old Year, Italian Style

According to Italian tradition, La Befana flies through the night sky on January 5 to sweep away all the troubles of the old year, and clear the way for a fresh start, the Epiphany on January 6. I’ll go along for that ride!

Susan Van Allen in Piazza Navona, Rome

Here’s an excerpt from my book of essays, Letters from Italy, about my experience of celebrating La Befana in Rome, years ago…

Postcard from Rome: The Legend of La Befana*

“There is no Santa Claus in Italy,” my Nana told me when I was a kid.
I had nightmares of how awful Christmas must be over there.
Nana said she had to wait until January 6, The Feast of the Epiphany, to get gifts. The presents came from an old crone with a hairy mole on her chin who rode around on a broom. She was called La Befana.

Many years later, I was in Rome’s Piazza Navona, at the Epiphany Fair. It was two weeks after Christmas, but the holiday celebrations were still in full swing. Bernini’s Fountain of the Four Rivers was surrounded by stands covered in twinkling white lights, selling sweets, ornaments, and roasted pork sandwiches.

Nowadays, there is Santa Claus in Italy. They call him Babbo Natale. Figures of him (skinnier than our version) hung off the booths. But he was far outnumbered by La Befanas — that witch of my childhood nightmares. There was no escaping her in the piazza — she appeared in the form of thimble-sized clay totems, stuffed dolls with scary grins, and there was even a signora in costume, cackling and waving her broom at Italian bambini who looked up at her in awe.

Tonight, January 5, I told my husband, is La Befana’s special night.

“The HORROR,” he whispered.

Clearly, he needed to be told the Legend of this Italian Wonder Woman:

La Befana, like my Nana, was famous for spending her days in the kitchen,
cooking and sweeping. On the first Christmas, the Magi stopped by her house, asking directions to Bethlehem. She made them dinner and they said to her,
“We’re going to see the Christ child, want to come along?”
“Impossible,” she replied.
“There are all these dishes to wash and the kitchen to sweep!”

So the kings went on their way. Then, as the old woman was sweeping, it hit her: Did those guys say they were going to see JESUS?

She ran out of her cottage with her broom to follow them, but… no kings in sight. She kept running, until her broom lifted her into the air. Ever since, La Befana has flown through the night sky on the Eve of the Epiphany, delivering goodies to children, hoping one of them is the Christ child.

We could feel the anticipation in the Piazza Navona air, as kids hurried home to hang stockings and set out a glass of wine for La Befana. She knows no child has been perfect all year, so she stuffs the stockings they’ll find in the morning with a mix of treats: coal (actually delicious black rock candy), maybe onions, olive oil… and finally they’ll dig to the bottom and find chocolates and caramels.

Who could not adore this ordinary woman, caught in the midst of her ordinary world, suddenly struck by The Epiphany, dropping everything to run and be a part of it?

La Befana

The nightmares Nana gave me so long ago had vanished. We celebrated that night at Tre Scalini, swooning over their tartufo specialty — chocolate gelato encrusted in hard chocolate. We bought our Los Angeles friends Befanas, wanting to share with them the spirit of this Christmastime bonus;
wanting them to believe as Italians believe, as we came to believe: that La Befana will fly through the sky, sweeping away last year’s troubles with her broom, bringing us the hope of a sweeter, brighter new year.

Look up! Anything is possible.

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*Excerpted from Letters from Italy: Confessions, Adventures, and Advice

Available on Amazon and Audible