So the thing I forgot to tell you about The Light is that it appears right before the day of St. John the Baptist, our family's patron saint.
Why, I wonder, don't American families have patron saints?
St. John the Baptist's Day (January 20--also known as Slava) was another one of those crazy holidays that kept us home from school as kids (no complaining on our part). A holiday that followed American Christmas (December 25) and our Christmas (January 7), so that by the time the end of January rolled around, our elementary-school teachers' eyes were bugging out of their heads each time we showed up with another parental note in our hands.
But back to St. John the Baptist. And I'm definitely not your biblical scholar here, nothing close--just like introducing you to our Peasant World and the strange sound of having a headless saint to guide your family through life.
Anyway. Every January 20 we bake bread and a wheat dish called zito, have them blessed by the priest, then top it off with a huge feast and celebration. They're filled with the good, clean fun of extended relatives and neighbors drinking way too much and dancing crazily around the living room, Eastern European Gypsy music blaring from the record player. Prime training ground for the youngsters, who are busy siphoning liquor and mixing cocktails in the basement.