Madonna, Stop the Plague!! . . Thank You

Way back when the Black Death, or the Plague, or the Peste, as it was called here, was ravaging much of Europe, the good people of Sciacca prayed to the Madonna to protect the people from it. Miraculously, the plague stopped after a certain number of prayers, and the town adopted the Madonna del Soccorso as its patron. They then built a Basilica in town to honor her, and it became the Chiesa Madre, or Mother Church. The town throws a big bash every February to honor her and thank her, and then again during the summer so that the warm weather tourists can enjoy the spectacle as well. Such double Saint days are fairly common, and also take place in Catania, Palermo, and Naples. In addition, the statue of the Madonna del Soccorso flies to Boston each year, where the Sciacense who have settled there have their own procession. Once Fran and I took a cab, and the driver told us his family was from Sciacca, and he took part in the procession every year.

I decided to go into town on the afternoon of the festa, just to see what was going on. A crowd had gathered in front of the Basilica, and the town band was doing its best to entertain them by attempting musical interludes. People went into the Basilica to pay their respects, and were ushered out as quickly as the ushers could ush. At exactly 4 o'clock, the appointed hour, which is unheard of in Sicily, a priest exited the church, with two helpers carrying his portable microphone and speakers. He asked everyone to clear a path, as the Madonna was about to leave the church. The bells started pealing, and the crowd quietly looked at the doors of the church, waiting for the statue to arrive.

Suddenly, out of the huge doors of the Basilica, the even huger statue of the Madonna bent her head and made her way down the stairs, carried by about fifty burly, barefoot men, straining to keep the platform that she was on fairly level as they shouldered the support poles. The crowd went wild, as cheers and tears greeted her, and policemen and priests tried to clear a path.

The Madonna went down to a small overlook by the sea, where she looked down at the fishing fleet, and the lowering sun. Then slowly she backed up to Via Victorio Emmanuele, and was slowly lowered to the street as the men carrying her took a cigarette break, and the leader handed out prayer cards to anyone who gave him twenty euros. People also brought huge bunches of flowers to put on the statue, and children were held up to kiss the statue. It was quite touching. When break time was over, she was hoisted up again, and the procession headed down to Piazza Scandaliota for another quick look at the sea, before climbing up the steep street next to city hall, so that Madonna could visit the Cathedral, where her son is. She then continued to Porto Palermo, and then down Via Licata to Piazza Friscia, where she turned the corner and headed home.

I did not follow the procession the whole way, but rather decided to wait for her to return to Piazza Friscia, where one of my favorite buildings is. Because most people were either following the procession, or in a fit of sanity had gone home to enjoy an evening off work (it was a holiday, and even the post office was closed in Sciacca!), the Piazza was almost empty, and looked beautiful in the gathering dusk.

I visited with friends in the Piazza, until we heard the noise of the band and the approaching procession. The barefoot statue bearers were almost exhausted after their four kilometer, four hour walk. Their feet must have been torn up by the rough paving stones in the streets of Sciacca. But for me, it was worth seeing. In the winter, people seem to take the idea of having been saved from the plague more seriously, and there are not as many folks out selling snow cones, pistachio nuts, and plastic horns. The balloon sellers were the only ones out in strength.

With the Madonna safely back in the Basilica, it is now time for Sciacca to concentrate on getting ready for Carnevale. That is where the plastic horns, balloons, pistachio nuts, and everything else really belong.