Let’s Hear It For the Crones! By Marilyn Barr

 Long before Santa burst onto the scene with his flashy red suit and sack of bribes, the winter holiday Epiphany was a celebration of crones. From his flying reindeer to the list that he checks twice, many of the facets of the Santa story are rooted in European traditions dating back before the birth of Jesus. Why aren’t these crones celebrated around the world like the commercial icon, Santa? I believe it is because their stories are delightfully terrifying. Small celebrations in their home nations continue the tradition of the Christmas witch, but let’s expand the reach of the feminine power in the wise women who have survived the maiden and matron portion of her life…with a few scary coping mechanisms…

The least frightening Christmas Witch is celebrated in my Italian family – Befana. Being based out of Rome, her legend has had the most parts borrowed by Santa and Christmas in general. Befana flies to all the children’s houses on January fifth each year to fill their stockings hanging over the hearth. Good little kids get candies today but received dates, figs, or honey in ancient Rome. What do bad children receive? If you guessed coal, you are correct. Befana kept a list and checked it twice before delivering her goodies. However, she didn’t fly in a sleigh pulled by reindeer. Like any witch worth her Book of Shadows, she flies on a broom.

(Befana doll from Rome’s Christmas Fair, Image from Wikimedia Common Images)

Where do the reindeer come in? They are part of the legend of Frau Perchta or The Spinning Room Witch. It is debated whether her legend originated in the alpine region of Germany and Austria (where she is still celebrated today) or in Scandinavia as the crone morphism of the Goddess Frigg. She’s called The Spinning Room Lady because she goes to houses to inspect their spinning room (and general housekeeping) for cleanliness on January sixth. Unspun flax, no offering of porridge, or a messy house will cause her to set your house on fire after stealing your intestines and replacing them with rocks. While some cultures replace the crone with a prettier maiden, named “Holle”, her deeds are just as gruesome. Does it matter if she has an iron beak nose, goat horns, or a sleigh pulled by part-reindeer and part-man monsters when she intends on disemboweling you? Her ‘Wild Hunt’ and a reverse harem of reindeer shifters are the origins of Santa’s team. Sounds like a Marilyn Barr paranormal romance in the future…

(Frau Perchta from Pinterest – Artist credit in the bottom right corner)

If you thought Frau Perchta was horrifying, she’s got nothing on Gryla the giant troll. Gryla was taught the joys of cannibalism from her first husband and haunts the children of Iceland. On the night before Yule, she collects the bad children (and drunken men who happen to be out) to be boiled in her cauldron and eaten. Despite growing up on a diet of boiled children, two of her sons grew up to be the Yule Lads who deliver presents to the obedient members of society in true Santa fashion. Gryla and her second husband Leppauloi have a separate list of houses to visit on the same night. Gryla’s number of heads, tails, goat horns, and ears is disputed in different legends. Another point of contention is her pet—the Christmas cat. This cat devours adults who do not have presents under the tree containing clothes, but what if no one gives them clothes? They have no control over others’ gift giving. Some legends have rectified this to say adults who do not give clothes to someone get eaten while others stay with the original Christmas Cat legend. (Legend Research from Old Magic of Christmas by Linda Raedisch)

(Gryla and Leppauloi puppets in an Icelandic Parade - Wikipedia)

Whether it is their dietary habits or fiery tempers, these crones need better PR. The traditional witch’s calendar celebrates the crone period of life from Samhain to Imbolc, but this has been buried by Christmas shopping receipts. I hesitate to put an age range on who is a crone because of the negative connotations ingrained in our society. Perhaps as we reinvent the season post-pandemic, we return to the traditions of honoring the grandmothers, seasoned ladies, or matriarchs in our families—minus the disembowelment or cannibalism, please.

My new release, The Spy Who Loved My Russian Tea Cakes, is dedicated to my mother-in-law. It also contains her recipe for Russian Tea Cakes and special cameo of her ghost. When she passed in 2008, she was just entering her season of the crone. However, as a hospice nurse dedicated to dignified end-of-life care, she believed in respecting the strong women in our society who earned their “grey hair sparkles” through experience. So, this Christmas, don’t forget to shower the crones in your life with love…or to clean your spinning room.

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