Once upon a time, long, long ago, in a small village high in the mountains in Italy there lived an old woman named La Befana. The local villages thought she was a witch for she preferred to spend her time alone and indeed, her simple cottage was on the edge of a dark forest.
La Befana did not look like a witch. She had not a magical wand, nor did she wear a black, pointed hat. But she did have a cat that was as black as coal, and she also had an old broomstick that was fashioned from the branch of a yew tree, the witch's tree, as gnarled and bent as she was.
The villagers whispered to each other what regardless of whether it was day or night, if you passed her cottage, you would see La Befana sweeping with her yew broom, sweeping the inside of her cottage and sweeping the outside of her cottage. She would sweep in circles, often as if she was in a trance, and if you watched her too long, it was said that you too would fall into a trance for the words she mutters contain all forms of magical powers.
When La Befana heard these whispers, she would simply smile. Sweeping, after all, was an ancient magic, passed down to her from her mother, her mother's mother, and even her mother's mother's mother. The magic the villagers whispered about was also found in the broom for it removed not only the dust and dirt brought into the house from our adventures in the outer world, but they also capture the feelings and emotional entanglements we collect unknowingly, or the unspoken conversations that swirl inside our minds but are never spoken.
Still, La Befana swept her circles, inside her house and out. And as her broom swished and swirled about, she muttered a chant under her breath:
“Sweep, sweep around about
All good stay in and all bad stay out.
I remove all harm, and banish all pain
For only peace and good shall remain.”
Such a powerful incantation this was and her little cottage deep on the edge of the forest was know far and wide as being free from the grime of the outside world and shimmering with magic.
As the story goes, early one evening after solstice as La Befana stirred her supper over a crackling fire, there was an unusual knock upon her door. When she opened it, she found three strangers, dressed in apparel from faraway lands, seeking directions to locate the Child of the Sun. She provided them food and shelter, and they invited her to join them in their search for this special child. However, La Befana declined, saying she had too much sweeping to do.
Later that night, she was awoken by the brightest of lights - a sign, she decided, to follow the strangers in their search for the special child. However, much time had passed and La Befana was not able to locate the strangers from the faraway lands, nor the place where the special child was said to have been born.
Yet, this did not deter La Befana, and it is said that even to this day, she takes to the skies on her broom made of yew and resumes to search for the special child. As she travels from house to house, the villagers wait in anticipation for she is said to leave treats to sleeping children in the hope that the Child of the Sun might also be with them.