La Befana

It was a cold night in Luisa’s little Italian village. Snow covered the mountaintops like icing on Christmas cakes.

This was the night La Befana would ride her broom through the skies.

Mamma tucked Luisa into her soft warm bed.

“Don’t be awake when La Befana comes, Luisa,” Mamma said. “Or she will bop you on the head with her broom.”

Later that night, everyone slept. Luisa’s father slept. Mamma slept. Grandfather slept. Her yellow cat Fufy slept.

But Luisa couldn’t sleep. She wondered what gifts La Befana would leave.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Luisa listened to the clock in the hall. Her eyes grew very heavy.