Holiday Traditions in Pian Dei Ontani- Maria Pasquesi

In the 1950's when my family lived in Italy, Christmas was more of a religious holiday. We knew nothing about Santa Claus, Mrs. Claus, Rudolph nor elves at the North Pole. A few days before Christmas, my father would go into our forest and cut down a pine tree, bring it home and put it in a stand in the northwest corner of our home. I don’t remember what kind of ornaments we put on the tree. I’m sure they were all homemade. But, what sticks out to me is that our Christmas tree had real candles on it and it filled the house with a fragrant smell of pine. The slender, white candles were a few inches tall and placed in a small, round candleholder that had a tray at the bottom to catch the hot, melting wax. The candleholder was then attached to the tree with a clip. We used to light the candles at night which made the tree twinkle. We had to make sure the flame on the candles was snuffed out and the candles were taken off the tree before we went to bed.

Several of my non-Italian acquaintances have asked me about the tradition of the "Feast of the Seven Fishes". That was not one of our traditions. We lived in the Appennine mountains in a small hamlet named "Pian dei Ontani" in the village of Piandelagotti in the province of Modena and region of Emilia-Romagna. Fish were rare in the winter up in our mountains. Many of the small streams and rivers would freeze. We would have tortellini soup, lasagna, a meat dish and several desserts. Also, in my house in Italy and here in the US, my mother never made garlic bread, Italian beef, and we never had meatballs in our spaghetti. I have never had or seen any of those foods on my many visits back to Italy—and never served by any of my many relatives there.


In anticipation of New Year’s Day, my friends and I would take some cardboard and make a mask for ourselves. We would draw faces with crayons, cut out holes for our eyes and attach an elastic band through two holes on either side of the mask to hold it on our face. Early on New Years Day, with a sack in hand, we would knock on the doors of our neighbors and friends. When they opened the door, we would say: “Buon Giorno e Buon Anno”. They would then give each of us an apple, an orange, some nuts, etc.—Almost like Halloween here in the States. The adults would visit each other’s homes in the morning and wish each other "Buon Anno" and receive some alcoholic cheer.


We also celebrated the Epiphany and “La Befana.” "La Befana" is a scary old lady who is in search of the baby Jesus, and leaves gifts in hopes that the baby Jesus might be in that house. But, if you have not been good, she might take you away on her broomstick to who knows where.

One year, on the eve of the Epiphany, January 5th, "La Befana", accompanied by some adults from our hamlet dressed in old clothes and masks, visited our home. Instead of bringing presents, my sister, Rina, was in her bag. She was crying. I was so scared I have never forgotten it. I surely didn’t want her to put me in her bag or take my sister away. It was very scary. I held on tight to my mother. “La Befana” never spoke a word; but, motioned to me that I needed to go to bed. Then, they all left our house, with my sister in the bag. Before I went to bed, my sister came running back into our house and said that she had tricked "La Befana" and escaped from her bag by cutting a hole in “La Befana’s” bag with a small knife my sister had in her pocket. Another year, my brother only got a lump of coal from "La Befana"—meaning he had been bad. Since my sister and brother were ten and twelve years older than me, this was all done for my benefit—and their amusement at watching my reactions.