Merry Christmas!

What If Christmas Meant A Little Bit More?

For some reason the commercialism of Christmas has gotten to me this year. Was it because it started at Halloween? Or was it the debate over when Black Friday should start--Thanksgiving Day, the week of, or maybe just Friday? Of course then Black Friday was followed by Small Business Saturday and Cyber Monday. News programs fretted over the economy. Would the retail stores see a significant growth in sales? What if they didn't? Did it signal an economic crisis?

Then of course as the Thanksgiving turkey was tucked into leftover containers TV, newspapers, magazines and every online source of information began informing the public of the best way to shop, to entertain, to decorate, and on and on. It was tiring to think of all that I wasn't doing or doing right.

And then, tuned into Sirius XM radio to one of the holiday music channels, I heard this quote from Dr. Zeus' The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. It was after the Grinch had done his dirty work and discovered the Whos were celebrating any way.

“And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more?”

This week heralds the celebration of the birth of Christ. He is the major part of Christmas unless you replace him with X. Unfortunately I think too many have replaced him with packages, boxes, and bags. Hmmm. What if Christmas , perhaps, means a little bit more?

"Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord." Luke 2:11

Mary's Journey

It's Christmas time. While I rejoice in the birth of Jesus, my thoughts often travel to Mary. As a mom, I wonder what she felt. Did she know all that lie ahead? And then there was that journey to Bethlehem.

Much has been been debated over whether her mode of transportation was a donkey or not. Tradition says it was. Does it really matter? She was nine months pregnant--or at least far enough along to be delivered. Whether by donkey, by camel, or by foot, it was a long journey. Today she wouldn't even be allowed an airplane flight for fear she would deliver mid-air. And would her doctor allow the x-ray security check?

Then they arrived in Bethlehem to find that there was no room left for them. We once ran into that problem when we decided to leave a day early for our trip with the kids to Niagara Falls. It was a four hour drive and we thought we'd drive halfway, find a place to stay and then get an early start the next day. What we didn't know was that there were several festivals between us and Niagara Falls and rooms were booked for miles. We raced a van to the last hotel with a room and lost. We turned around and went halfway home, found a rest stop and slept in the station wagon with the kids that night. And I wasn't pregnant. I can't imagine the dismay of not having a bed to rest in and finding yourself in a stable.

Tired, dusty, worn out and probably without familiar female help to assist in the delivery, Mary's pains began. Her son, the one the angel had promised was from God, would soon be born. What an ending to a long journey. But for Mary, the journey was only just beginning. Her son, God's only son, would become the savior of the world. She would witness it all.

When she packed her bag to begin that journey to Bethlehem, did she know?

Magic Lights

There have been lots of Christmas light displays advertised and reported on locally--zoos, communities, even private homes. While the zoo lights were tempting, the nights we would have had free were really cold. We don't do well in the cold.


Last year we stopped by Oglebay's light display and enjoyed our stay and the drive through the park full of lights. With the thought of being in a warm car and not having to walk in the cold, we opted to go to the Magic Lights display at the Cuyahoga County Fairgrounds. We were delighted with our experience.


The cost is $20 for a car if you buy a pass online, $25 at the gate, and we bought our online pass an hour before we decided to go. The display is from 5:30 to 10 PM every night. We didn't want to wait too late to go so we decided to stop along the way to the fairgrounds at Wendy's for chili.


Somehow we passed the main entrance but got turned around and found it. Once we pulled up to the gate, we were asked to proceed with our lights off and invited to stop at Santa's Holiday Village for hot chocolate, games, music and s'mores. Lights off we were on our way.


The drive was well marked and it was a continuous display of lights. Whimsical displays, Christmas ornaments, lighted snowflakes, the 12 Days of Christmas, a nativity and to our surprise, several light displays that were farm equipment.


Our stop at the Santa Village, found a lot of kids bustling about and a small orchestra playing. We did a quick look around and went back out to continue our drive.


All in all it took about 50 minutes to drive slowly through the displays. It was festive too, as we tuned our radio to the suggested station to listen to Christmas music as we drove through.


The display is open until January 4 if you're in the area. It's worth the trip and the time and the cost of the pass.

Under The Mistletoe

When I first saw mistletoe growing in the branches of a tree I mistook it for a big squirrel's nest like we see in our trees at home. I learned that it is a parasitic plant that feeds off of its host tree. It does produce a popular Christmas decoration with quite a tradition.

Mistletoe can be found in several areas of America, Europe, and Australia. Not all species produce the same kind of white berries and leaves that are commonly used in the traditional Christmas decorations though.

Mistletoe was traditionally hung in doorways where a young man could claim a kiss if he caught a girl there. He then removed one of the berries from the plant. When the fruit was gone no more kisses could be claimed.

The original tradition of kissing under the mistletoe is said to have come from a Norse legend whereby a Norse goddess declared mistletoe as a sacred plant to symbolize love rather than death which, as the myth goes, it previously stood for.

It's A Pocketful of Christmas!

It's here! It's available on Amazon! And it's a great quick read for the holidays. A Pocketful Of Christmas is a novella and takes place in a little town in Pennsylvania. Here's the teaser:

When you give the miracle of love will you get double back? A small Pennsylvania town will soon discover if that is true. In Hollitown, Joseph is not looking forward to his first Christmas without his wife. When he discovers that eight year old Keri is hurting as well from missing her father, Joseph finds that a pocketful of Christmas can bring joy again into both their lives.

Uplifting and inspirational, I hope the story will bring joy into the hearts of my readers. I've had it in my pocket for quite some time now.

Christmas Past -- The Purple Stocking

[This is one of my favorite stories from the past when the kids were still little.]

I’m a traditionalist. I live in a traditional style home with comfortable overstuffed furniture. I love to cross stitch and quilt. I decorate with the basic Christmas colors—traditional green and red. At least that’s what I did before my mother asked my adopted six year old daughter what color stocking she wanted for her first Christmas with us.

            My mother had knitted red and green stockings for our older three boys. Now that we had adopted Cheryl and her brother, Don, she was eager to begin theirs. Cheryl made her choice loud and clear—purple!

            “Purple it is,” my mother said with her eyebrow raised to squelch my impending protest. The stocking had to be perfect as far as Cheryl was concerned this would be the first time in her six years that Santa might actually fill it.

            She had hung stockings up in past years, but Santa had never come on that special night to put anything into them. The best Cheryl and five year old Don could expect to receive then was a truck and a doll from their social services case worker. The gifts usually arrived a few days earlier or later. The magic of Christmas Eve was never realized for them.

            Anticipation and anxiety rose as Christmas neared. My twelve year old twins, Rob and Ron, and nine year old Andy could not comprehend that someone had never experienced the frenzied moments of sheer joy they found on Christmas morning tearing through layers of wrappings and boxes to find the treasures and desires of their young hearts.

            Because Christmas fell on a Sunday, we decided to change our calendar and have “Christmas morning” on the 24^th instead. That enabled me to enlist our neighborhood Santa in a surprise visit to our home on our Christmas Eve. That night, when Santa rang the doorbell, Cheryl flew to open it.

            “Ho, ho, ho. So here you are,” Santa exclaimed raising his arms in surprise. “I’ve been looking for you for a long time. You and Donny have moved to so many foster homes that I had a hard time tracking you down. But now that you have a ‘forever home,’ I know where you’ll be.”

            “My stocking…purple stocking…hanging on fireplace.” Cheryl found it difficult to put a sentence together in Santa’s presence.

            “Well, you’ll have to go to sleep early tonight so I can bring Rudolph and the gang with my load of toys and fill that purple stocking with surprises.” Santa chuckled.

            “You’re not landing on my roof are you, Santa?” my husband chided.

            “Well, of course. Got to use the chimney. It’s tradition, you know.”

            “Just who’s going to clean up that mess the reindeer leave? I’m not.” Bob folded his arms across his chest.

            “I will! I will! I will!” Cheryl shouted, panic stricken that her new dad might dissuade Santa’s return. Santa ho-ho-hoed and left after reassuring Cheryl that he knew the way back.

            To my amazement, everyone cooperated at bedtime. Cheryl and Don were the first to be tucked in since they were the youngest. Then Andy followed quickly. He figured the sooner to bed—the sooner morning would come.

Our preteen twins, of course, held out to the last. Tradition called for Santa to decorate the tree on Christmas Eve. They watched “Santa” begin his work, but not wanting to be totally disillusioned yet, they went to bed before it was done.

Our Christmas morning arrived early as usual. We had been careful to outline the traditional rules to our youngest and newest children. When we entered the family room, we found all five children sitting side by side, the tree lights on, staring at the stockings now lined up at the base of the fireplace, heavy with goodies. They were dutifully waiting for Mom and Dad to come down for breakfast.

“He did come! He did!” Cheryl exclaimed when we appeared in the doorway. She jumped up and down and pointed to her purple stocking.

“So he did,” I said filling with the same excitement I remembered as a child. “Well, get into your stockings and then we’ll have breakfast before we open the big gifts.”

Following the traditional order for Christmas morning, Cheryl cradled the purple stocking in her arms and joined the circle of siblings in opening the little candies, novelties, and fruit that “Santa” had stuffed in those precious knitted stockings.

After breakfast, Bob poured his traditional second cup of coffee to heighten the anticipation, but the kids nudged him into the family room before he could finish it so they could open gifts.

We always take turns with our gifts so each can appreciate what he has received, and Bob and I can watch each expression. After a few rounds, I noticed that the older boys were not busying themselves with what they had opened. Instead, they were intrigued with their new brother and sister. I noticed Ron brush a tear from his cheek. His face reddened.

“This really is the first Christmas for them, isn’t it?” he remarked. I nodded and smiled.

The rest of the day did not follow our traditional schedule since we had already moved Christmas. We attended Christmas Eve service, as we did every year, but somehow worship was much more meaningful. The celebration of Christ’s birth seemed so much more joyous. I realized the love that had been shared that morning in our family was a part of the love that God had shared with all of us through His son.

Well, traditionalist I still am. Each year I hang the purple stocking in the middle of the red and green ones. After all, traditionally the color of purple indicates royalty, and isn’t that what Christmas is all about? The birth of a King?

Christmas Greetings

Will The Christ Child Come?

[This is a story that has circulated and been enjoyed by many all over the world. It came to me in an email from friends we had made on board the Queen Mary 2 this past year. Curious, I searched for the "unknown author" online and connected with her finally. Her name is Gaye Willis and she lives in Alaska. The story was written in 1998 and published at LDS World's Countdown to Christmas. Gaye claims she's not a writer but even in telling how she has received feedback from so many all over the world, I think the Lord has blessed her with the gift of words. Here's her story.]

One Christmas we had an interesting experience that I would like to share. Halfway through December we were doing the regular evening things when there was a knock at the door. We opened it to find a small package with a beautiful ceramic lamb inside. We looked at the calendar and realized that the 12 days of Christmas were beginning! We waited excitedly for the next night's surprise and only then, with the gift of a matching shepherd, did we realized that the lamb was part of a nativity set.

Each night we grew more excited to see what piece we would receive. Each was exquisitely beautiful. The kids kept trying to catch the givers as we slowing built the scene at the manager and began to focus on Christ's birth.

On Christmas Eve, all the pieces were in place, but the baby Jesus. My 12 year-old son really wanted to catch our benefactors and began to devise all kinds of ways to trap them. He ate his dinner in the mini-van watching and waiting, but no one came.

Finally we called him in to go through our family's Christmas Eve traditions. But before the kids went to bed we checked the front step -- No Baby Jesus! We began to worry that my son had scared them off.

My husband suggested that maybe they dropped the Jesus and there wouldn't be anything coming. Somehow something was missing that Christmas Eve. There was a feeling that things weren't complete. The kids went to bed and I put out Christmas, but before I went to bed I again checked to see if the Jesus had come -- no, the doorstep was empty.

In our family the kids can open their stockings when they want to, but they have to wait to open any presents until Dad wakes up. So one by one they woke up very early and I also woke up to watch them. Even before they opened their stockings, each child checked to see if perhaps during the night the baby Jesus had come. Missing that piece of the set seemed to have an odd effect. At least it changed my focus. I knew there were presents under the tree for me and I was excited to watch the children open their gifts, but first on my mind was the feeling of waiting for the ceramic Christ Child.

We had opened just about all of the presents when one of the children found one more for me buried deep beneath the limbs of the tree. He handed me a small package from my former visiting teaching companion. This sister was somewhat less-active in the church. I had been her visiting teacher for a couple of years and then, when she was asked to be a visiting teacher, she requested to go with me. I had learned over time they didn't have much for Christmas, so that their focus was the children. It sounded like she didn't get many gifts to open, so I had always given her a small package--new dish towels, the next year's Relief Society lesson manual--not much, but something for her to open. I was touched when at Church on the day before Christmas, she had given me this small package, saying it was just a token of her love and appreciation.

As I took off the bow, I remembered my friendship with her and was filled with gratitude for knowing her and for her kindness and sacrifice In this year giving me a gift. But as the paper fell away, I began to tremble and cry. There in the small brown box was the baby Jesus. He had come! I realized on that Christmas Day that Christ will come into our lives in ways that we don't expect. The spirit of Christ comes into our hearts as we serve one another. We had waited and watched for him to come, expecting the dramatic "knock at the door and scurrying of feet" but he came in a small, simple package that represented service friendship, gratitude, and love.

This experience taught me that the beginning of the true spirit of Christmas comes as we open our hearts and actively focus on the Savior. But we will most likely find him in the small and simple acts of love, friendship and service that we give to each other. This Christmas I want to feel again the joy of knowing that Christ is in our home. I want to focus on loving and serving. More than that I want to open my heart to him all year that I may see him again.

A Treasured Christmas Memory

That first Christmas with all five kids was very special. The twins were 12 and Andy was 9. Our newest additions, Cheryl, 6, and Don, 5, had arrived at our home permanently in October. The three older boys were still getting used to this "sister stuff". They knew how to relate to Don--he was a boy--but they gave Cheryl space, not ignoring her, just allowing her to do her thing until they could figure out what that "thing" was. I don't know that they ever have.

We had moved Christmas up a day to Saturday. That morning, Andy awoke early as usual (his record time was around 4:30 a.m.). He waited a decent amount of time, opening his stocking gifts while the rest slept, then began the process of getting the rest of the household up by waking Don. It didn't take long for the rest of us to be up and into the family room.

We have an orderly process of unwrapping gifts one at a time starting with the youngest. Don opened his and was immediately enthralled. Cheryl opened hers next and the enthusiasm and excitement has yet to be matched by anything I've ever seen. As they each played with their gift, I looked to the older boys to watch them scurry to the tree for theirs. To my amazement they sat in awe of Cheryl and Don, mesmerized by their expressions of joy over Santa's gifts to them.

I heard a sniffle and turned in the direction of the sound. Ron (one of the twins) wiped his nose on his sleeve. I chose not to correct his behavior. It was better left unnoticed at that age that he had been so touched emotionally. A moment later, composure regained, he observed, "Wow, this really is their first real Christmas."

Moments later, paper flew and boxes spilled their contents of goodies as the rest of the treasure was discovered under the tree. But that one moment in time when love became the focus of Christmas will always be treasured in my heart.

Williamsburg Decorating

[This week I thought I would look back at some of my posts from previous years. This one is from December of 2004]

Last night I spoke to a group of Home Economics teachers about creating Williamsburg Christmas decorations with fresh greens, fruit, and dried materials. As I demonstrated, I recounted some of my experiences with my own Williamsburg decorations from years past.

The year we adopted our two youngest children who were five and six at the time, I made my usual arrangement of fresh greens and fruit on the dining room table. The greens formed a gentle S shape radiating from a grouping of candles in the center. Along the greens I had placed apples, pears, oranges, pinecones, and mixed nuts. Halfway through the Christmas season, I would replace the fruit with fresh and use the old in a fruit salad. (We always ate healthy during the Christmas season to keep my decorations looking fresh.)

One night we were expecting guests for dinner. As I began to set the table. I noticed something different about the fruit in my arrangement. I blinked. Sure enough, someone had taken a bite out of each piece and placed it back on the table again. There was no time to replace the fruit so I just turned it over and hoped my guests wouldn't examine it later.

I was pretty sure I knew who the culprits were although there's no telling if my other three boys might have done it to be funny. Whoever did it created a wonderful Christmas memory that makes me smile to this day. Actually, I remember smiling a lot that evening every time I thought about the little teeth marks hidden in the underside of the fruit before me.

Merry Christmas!

Picturing Christmas

Our travels have circumnavigated the globe. It's an amazing thought. As we have visited so many different places and I have written about our travels, I have struggled to clearly picture in words how those areas and people appeared to me. Think about the most glorious sunset you've ever seen and then try to put it into words. Once you are past the oranges, reds, purples, pinks, etc. it gets more difficult and it is impossible to capture the magnificence of the moment and the emotion it evokes.

Taking a photo or even a video of the experience does not do it justice either. There may be some beautiful pictures as a result, but it will still not equal that one stunning scene that will be embedded in the archives of your mind.

Now imagine the miracle of Christmas. In our heads, we see what others have told us. We see images others have painted--and those mostly as an impression of the words used to describe the scene. Scripture does not recall a donkey (exactly) for Mary to ride on. Nowhere does it say that there was an innkeeper but we insist on that as part of the story. The three kings were three wise men--but wait! Now we don't even know that there were three. There could have been more since the Bible doesn't really give a number. And they didn't arrive until Jesus was around two years old.

In our joy, in our desire to celebrate this great miracle, we have tried to picture what we were not there to experience. In doing so, we have created lovely pictures on cavases and in words that have come to symbolize our Christmas story. While every detail may not be exact, the truth still remains. God sent his only Son so that whoever would believe in Him could have eternal life.

In my mind, I have a picture of heaven. It's based on several places in the Bible where heaven is described. I'm sure the real thing will look nothing like what I've pictured. It will probably be much more glorious than I could ever describe. Does it diminish what God has prepared? No. It just gives me something to look forward to.

However you picture your Christmas story, a stable or a cave, a donkey or a cart, three wisemen or a dozen, may you focus on the one thing we all know to be true: God's promise fulfilled in His Son, Jesus.

Silent Night

There is a lovely legend that surrounds this carol sung in many churches on Christmas Eve while candles are lit to celebrate the Christ child's birth. The song originates in Austria and was originally written in German by Fr. Joseph Mohr and put to music by Franz Xaver Gruber, a music teacher.

As the story goes, Fr Mohr wanted a children's choir to sing the song he had written in 1816 at a Christmas Eve Mass in 1818, but unfortunately, the organ broke down. Fr Mohr knew how to play a guitar so he asked Gruber to compose music for the guitar. That night it was performed for the very first time by the choir accompanied by the guitar.

The legend continues that an organ repair man actually circulated the song that soon became very popular. There is no record of there ever being a children's choir, or of the organ being broken. There is, however, an original copy of the music and words written down in 1820 by Fr. Mohr and crediting Franz Gruber with the music. It is displayed in the Carolino Augusteum Museum in Salzburg.

May this carol bring you the stillness that will allow the holiness of this wonderful night to fill you with the wonder of the miracle and the gift God gave.

HAVE A WONDERFUL CHRISTMAS!

Crachit's Christmas Goose

In Dicken's A Christmas Carol, Scrooge is shown the Crachit's Christmas celebration by the ghost of Christmas present. They have what appears to Scrooge to be a pitiful stuffed goose. In that day it probably was the poor man's dinner. When Scrooge is finally through his visits and awakes on Christmas morning he insists on buying a large turkey for the Crachits.

Today the goose is probably a more unusual and even gourmet meal. We used to have a Christmas goose almost every year. Baked to a golden brown the wonderful smell of our goose dinner filled the house. Here's a recipe if you are ready for a Crachit Christmas goose.

1 domestic goose (10-12 lb)
salt and pepper
1 apple cored and quartered
1 orange peeled and quartered
1 lemon peeled and quartered
1 cup hot water

Sprinkle the goose with salt and pepper. Place fruit in empty cavity and place goose in shallow baking pan breast side up. Pierce skin with a fork near the thighs and wings. It allows excess fat to drain as it cooks. Pour water into pan.

Bake uncovered at 350 for about 2 1/2 to 3 hours or until thermometer reaches 180. You may want to drain some of the fat from the pan if there is too much.

Let stand for about 20 minutes and remove fruit and discard before carving.

We always liked sauerkraut and dumplings seasoned a bit with the goose drippings but being English, I'm sure the Crachits had more traditional "puddings" and potatoes with other vegetables.

Christmas Clogs

While many of us are scurrying around thinking of gift ideas and readying those stockings to hang "from the chimney with care," the Dutch children have already received their gifts. December 6 in the Netherlands is St. Nicholas Day and the evening before (December 5) the children put out their wooden shoes in hope of receiving sweets and presents from Sinter Klaas.

Instead of cookies, the Dutch children put hay and carrots in their shoes as a treat for Sinter Klaas' white horse that he rides through town. The children's treats are replaced with presents to be enjoyed on St. Nicholas Day.

There are often parties on St. Nicholas Eve and anonymous presents are exchanged with poems or sayings that give a clue to the giver.

For the most part, Christmas Day is a quieter holiday with church services and a family meal. Some children believe that Santa Claus (not to be confused with Sinter Klaas) who lives in Lapland in Finland comes on Christmas Eve to bring a small gift of a book or orange or biscuits.

Norwegian Cookies - Kokosmakroner

Basically Kokosmakroner, Norwegian Christmas cookies, are coconut macaroons, something my husband loves so I guess after I post this recipe I'll be off to make some for him. If you are a chocolate lover, once you bake the macaroons, melt some semi sweet morsels and dip half of each cookie in the chocolate. Set them on some waxed paper until they harden.

Coconut Macaroons

2/3 cup flour
5 1/2 cups flaked coconut
1/4 tsp salt
1 can (14 oz) sweetened condensed milk
2 tsps vanilla extract

Preheat oven to 350. Line cookie sheets with parchment paper. In large bowl mix together the flour, coconut and salt. Stir in vanilla and sweetened condensed milk. Use your hands to blend it well. An ice cream scoop or tablespoon can be used to drop the dough onto the cookie sheets.

Bake for 12-15 minutes until coconut is toasted.

Okay, now my mouth is watering.

Gledelig Jul!

Clever and full of energy was the elf at the center of the venue at Norway in Epcot. The Julenissen is derived from the Nisse or the barn elf that looks out for the livestock on Norwegian farms. Julenissen is the "barn Santa". He had some magical powers that included being invisible--at least to the lady beside him.

Across the countryside children on farms leave a bowl of porridge in the barn for Julenissen to thank him for taking care of the animals and watching over the family. Farm animals are treated to the finest oats and barley and special sheaves of grain are placed on poles for the birds.

Julenissen visits on Christmas Eve with the greeting, "Are there any good children here?" Of course he brings presents and will sometimes make the children sing a song, "Pa Laven Sitter Nissen" (In the barn sits the elf).

There is also another song, Musevisa (The Mouse Song) that tells of a mouse family getting ready for Christmas and Mother and Father Mouse warning their children to stay away from mouse traps.

And of course as everywhere, there is a Christmas feast--pork or mutton served with red cabbage and potatoes. A special cake, Julekake, and rice porridge are favorites as well.

First The Antipasti

Christmas meals in Italy are varied by region but one thing they have in common is the antipasti. Well, at least the general idea of the dish or platter. It is basically a platter with all sorts of cold meats, cheeses, condiments and vegetables arranged beautifully to create an invitation to begin dining.

I chose this item as a part of my reflection on Christmas in Italy because it is so adaptable to any Christmas celebration. Here is a list of things you might choose from for a more authentic antipasti, which by the way means "before food or before the meal."

Cold cuts sliced thin:
prosciutto
salami
mortadella with pistachio
mild coppa

Marinated vegetables such as artichoke hearts, roasted red peppers, pepperoncini, and mushrooms.

Cheeses:
Bocconcini
chunks of parmigiana
thin slices of asiago, provolone and fontina

Breads like Grissini bread strips, focaccia, ciabatta, and other varieties of artisan breads.

All sorts of gourmet olives

You can also add deviled eggs, grilled veggies, figs or melon (wrap the melon in prosciutto).

Antipasti make a great addition to any buffet table and informal gathering.

BUON APPETITO!

Buon Natale!

No matter what country that celebrates Christmas with a figure of generosity, there is always a reward to children for good behavior. Even if it is a witch! La Befana is the witch that during the Christmas season will go house to house rewarding good children with a special treat. She was featured at the Italian venue in Epcot when we visited. Let me tell you about the legend and how she got started.

La Befana predates Santa Claus who gained recognition around WWII. La Befana dates back to the 13th century. She is pictured as an old witch lady with a large red nose, hunched back, dressed in a jacket of colorful patches and with a broom in hand. The legend says that on the 12th night of Christmas (January 5) the three wise men set out to find the baby Jesus. La Befana was asked to join them in their search but she declined. She said she had too much housework to do. Later she changed her mind and went out to find them but never did.

Every year on January 5, La Befana travels on her magic broom, still searching for the baby Jesus. She climbs down chimneys and leaves candy and fruit for the good children and coal, onions or garlic to the naughty ones. Children leave out stockings or shoes to be filled hopefully with sweet treats. After her visit of course there is feasting with family and friends.