The story was told in my school that once upon a time, a girl came from Sweden as an exchange student.  Who she was and when she came was something that had been lost to all but the oldest teachers in the school who still remembered her.  But she left behind a Scandinavian tradition that became an annual December ritual in our school.

Scandinavian countries, particularly Sweden, celebrate St. Lucy’s Day in December.  The name Lucy is related to the Latin word for light, and in the darkest time of winter, young girls dressed as the saint with white dresses and red sashes process with candles singing Santa Lucia, a Neapolitan song with words rewritten to address the coming of the light into dark and cold.  This was the tradition that was brought to my school.

Seven or nine girls from the senior and junior classes were selected to be the Santa Lucia girls.  Whether or not their identity was supposed to be a mystery, the fact was that no one knew who the girls were until they processed down the hallway.  And we were not told what day the procession would happen; we only knew that some afternoon, in mid-December, we’d be let out of class to line the hallways.  It was not announced over the loudspeaker.  The teachers would simply ask us to go stand in the hall and point us to the section assigned for that room.

Once we were in place, they would quickly walk the halls, making sure that we were standing with backs against the walls and lockers so the hallways would be clear and then they would turn off the lights.  The whole school would fall silent, waiting.  No matter the grade, from the littlest elementary school kids to the most cynical high schoolers, there was something about this ritual that wiped out the silliness and general goofing around.  There was barely any shuffling and anyone who whispered would be quickly shushed and poked in the ribs with an elbow.  Up and down the hallways, everyone, students and teachers alike, would strain to hear the first quiet magical voices of the Santa Lucia girls.

Then around the corner you’d hear them.  They would come slowly solemnly, taking a step with one foot, then bringing the other foot up to meet it before stepping out again.  They were dressed all in white, in flowing cotton gowns like angel robes.  On their feet they wore thick white socks, long enough to disappear under their skirts, and they wore no shoes so they could glide silently down the halls.  The single girl in the lead wore a crown of silver tinsel with four lit candles, and the three or four pairs of girls behind her wore silver tinsel around their heads and carried a single candle.  All had sashes of silver tinsel.

In the silence, they would come, slowly, singing, looking straight ahead, stepping and gliding in time with their song.  The hallways would grow even quieter as they came closer and closer, everyone hardly daring to breathe as they passed by, all white and silver and flickering candlelight with that sweet sweet song floating above.  We stayed frozen in place while the sound of the singing grew dimmer and dimmer and, as they turned the corner, was gone.

After that, we headed back to our interrupted class time.  It was generally understood that whatever time was left of the day would not be used for lessons or fooling around or even for talking about the Santa Lucia procession.  It was just a quiet time before the bell rang and we flew out the door, racing for the buses to take us home.

Santa Lucia

(As sung in the Addison School District, Addison Michigan.

For some reason we used the English version of the Italian lyrics rather than the Swedish)

Now 'neath the silver moon,
Ocean is glowing,
O'er the calm billow,
Soft winds are blowing
Here balmy zephyrs blow,
Pure joys invite us,
And as we gently row,
All things delight us.

Hark how the sailor's cry
Joyously echoes nigh:
Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia!
Home of fair poesy,
Realm of pure harmony,
Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia!

When o'er thy waters,
light winds are playing
Thy spell can soothe us,
all care allaying;
To thee sweet Napoli,
what charms are given;
Where smiles creation,
toil blest by heaven.

Hark how the sailor's cry
Joyously echoes nigh:
Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia!
Home of fair poesy,
Realm of pure harmony,
Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia!

(from http://ingeb.org/songs/santaluc.html)