‘Epiphany’ comes from the Greek word ‘ἐπιφάνεια’, ‘epipháneia’, which means ‘manifestation’ or ‘apparition’. In ancient times it was used to describe the appearance of an enemy, dawn, or, in particular, of a deity. The latter is usually referred to as a theophany and is mainly known in Christian tradition when talking about the twelve nights that occurred after Jesus’ birth (or even the twelve nights that occurred after the winter solstice). Most people know it as The Twelfth Night, or The Visit of the Magi, but in my home country it is known as Epiphany.
More colloquially said… Befana.
It’s actually a pretty goofy name, and I’m sure not a lot of people know about her. Because it is a ‘her’, and this woman I am about to introduce you to, in the small Italian peninsula, is extremely popular.
This lady is portrayed as an ugly witch, wearing rags and a pointy hat, carrying a broom and a sack for her gifts, but most importantly as an old hag. Seems harsh, I know, and I do feel bad for her, but this is the exact depiction she assumes when, between the night of the 5th and 6th of January, she visits every house, leaving presents to children—a little bit like Santa.
According to the Christian legend, the Three Magi (or even Kings), called Melchior, Caspar, and Balthazar, while searching for the newborn son of the Christian god, encountered an old woman and approached her to ask her for directions. The tale narrates then that, in one way or another, she either refused and then regretted it, or she helped them and then regretted not going with them; however, that’s not important, for the woman, feeling guilty, grabbed some sweets and fruit and began looking for the Three Magi and the newborn baby.
Yet with no luck on her side, she never found them. Therefore, she began knocking on every door, hoping to find the newborn and leaving gifts for every child she ran across.
This is according to religion.
According to popular belief, in lieu, this old lady, during one freezing winter night, enters every house through the chimney and puts presents, typically chocolates and candies, in the stockings hung above the fireplace. However, there’s a catch. If you have been good throughout the year, you’ll only find sweets waiting for you. But if you have been naughty, you’ll find your sock all dirty with just coal for your tummy.
The Befana is a grand holiday in my country, and when I was younger, I couldn’t wait to fill my stomach with everything sugary and honey sweet. The thrill of waking up at night and having the possibility of seeing this frightful figure is enough to scare anyone. I do remember how terrified I felt as a little kid, and I definitely remember all the coal I received upon waking the morning after.
There’s obviously a correlation between the figure of the old woman in the legend of the Epiphany and the one celebrated in modern times. I even suspected that, with her witchy appearance and features, the Befana might have been part of my country’s mediaeval folklore. She does rather sound from the Dark Ages, and her resemblance to a lot of the Brothers Grimm’s characters reinforced that thought. What I wasn’t ready to discover was, per contra, that this elderly lady might be even older than what she looks.
Pagan or pre-Christian, it does not matter, for she’s as ancient as our roots.
Let’s start with her name. Many historians believe that the word Befana comes from the Italian variation of the term epipháneia, but in the modern language it means ‘old woman’. Although there are lots of epithets she’s referred to, the honorific Befana is used throughout the peninsula. Not much research has been done on her account, and the few documents we have are from the Middle Ages. Some believed that she, like the German Perchta, is just the personification of Epiphany, created by the Christians, who had the tendency to give a face to holidays and feasts.
Delving deeper into this mystic figure, however, it seems highly improbable that the Church approved of such a grim persona to represent an important moment in their religious calendar. It appeared that our wicked witch is more likely to come from a mixture of propitiatory pagan Celtic rites, dating back to pre-Christian times. A period of our history when people celebrated according to seasonal cycles and agriculture. Customs that were picked up by the Romans and, obviously—once again—transformed by the Church.
For a long time, Christians tried to associate the Befana with saints like St Lucy, who was said to be kind and generous towards kids. But the funny thing about humans is that they remember. They remember the ancient times even if they think they don’t. It is no wonder then that entire communities have even today the tradition of building a sort of wooden puppet of the witch and lighting it on fire. It is no wonder then that they used to even fill her up with apples, pears, and chestnuts. And it is no wonder that she, as the new year begins, represents the old one burning away.
Exactly like one would imagine Mother Nature after twelve long months.
An old woman. A crone.
Certainly, the bonfires and the constant connection with the Magna Mater do remind us of ancient Celtic practices, which have nothing in common with the Christian ones if not for the fact that they have been stolen and then given a new name. Even the coal given to disobedient children derives from the one grabbed from the witch’s bonfires, but… oh well.
We may never know her origin, who she was, her true name, and what her purpose was, but surviving since ancient times, with little to no documentation on her name, only through people’s memory, surely makes her a great figure and woman.
Perhaps a goddess, a myth, or a legend, but first and foremost a woman.
Up, L’Adoration des Mages (circa 1619)
Sources:
Epifania: Le Origini della Festa della Befana
La Befana e Diana: origini pagane dell’Epifania
My family’s expertise
The Library of the Unseen 
Beautiful description of my sign! Thank you ☺️ 😘😘