The Legend of La Befana: Letters from Italy

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? 

I flash on my friends in Los Angeles, who have already hauled their trees out to the curb and are back at work, feeling guilty about weight they’ve gained from holiday partying.

We don’t feel guilty at all. We’re in Rome and we do as the Romans do. We slip into our favorite cafe, Tre Scalini, and order tartufo––crunchy chocolate ice cream encrusted in hard chocolate. 

The nightmares Nana gave me so long ago are gone. We buy 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 believe––that La Befana will fly through the sky tonight, sweeping away last year’s troubles with her broom, bringing us the hope of a sweeter, brighter new year. Anything is possible.

Photo courtesy of author