When Nonni Was Warding Off the Evil Eye
A place where religion and superstition merge
The covers were pulled up to my mother’s chin and the smell of Ben Gay filled the room. The shades were drawn to darken the room as much as possible in the middle of the afternoon. I could see the pain of the migraine deadening my mom’s eyes. Any slight movement made her nauseous.
“Here. Take this down to your grandmother,” she told me, handing me her wedding band. “And don’t try it on.”
The seriousness in her voice frightened me and I ran down to my grandmother’s house as quickly as I could.
“Here, Nonni…my moth…” I started to speak but didn’t say much before she grabbed the ring out of my hand.
“Aspeth,” she said. “You wait there.”
She motioned to the chair opposite her as she took a seat at the kitchen table and looked at the ring for a long time. She proceeded to close her eyes and whisper a series of prayers over and over. Some were in English and others in Italian.
In front of her was a small saucer of water. She carefully placed tiny droplets of oil onto the surface of the water.
As she did this she began to yawn. Big yawns, long yawns, punctuated with sighs and moans and an occasional “Deo Mia.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. This continued for a good half an hour.
I tried to interrupt her.
“Nonni, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
She lifted her index finger and looked at me with a glance that said, “Not now.”
I grabbed a bottle of 7up and made myself comfortable for the duration.
Finally, she blessed herself with the sign of the cross three times and put her crystalline rosary beads on top of her bedroom dresser. Suddenly, she looked so tired.
“Here,” she handed me the ring. “You tella you mama she has the malocchio. I fix. Go home now.”
That was it. I took the ring, ran back home, and gave it to Mom who put it back on, rolled over, and fell asleep.
“Thank you, honey,” she murmured as she fell asleep.
When Mom woke up, the headache was gone and I asked her to explain what happened. Though she tried to explain, I was as confused as ever when she finished.
She explained that when someone else is filled with envy and wants a possession or a trait of yours, that person can give you the evil eye and curse your well-being. The malevolent look, called the malocchio, is intended to heap ill wishes on you and your loved ones.
Many cultures have items and gestures intended to ward off the evil eye. Italians have the cornicello or bull’s horn. This Italian amulet resembles a hot pepper and can be gold, silver, red or pink and is worn on a chain around the neck.
Another means of protecting oneself is to use a hand gesture where the thumb, the index finger and the pinky stick out as the other three fingers are folded back. This gesture resembles the horns of a bull and is believed to ward off the evil eye when it is pointed at the source of ill will.
If neither works, and someone receives the malocchio, that person needs to see a healer who can remove the spell. Unbeknownst to me, that was my grandmother.
The ritual of cleansing is passed on to a younger member of the family only on Christmas Eve. It is understood that only one person in a family line acts as the healer.
When my mom could not explain this well enough to me, I sought out my grandmother for more specifics. She explained that sometimes the malocchio was unintentional and the result of too many compliments.
Babies could receive the evil eye when too many adults praise the child. The antidote was to say aloud, “God bless you.” I remember hearing Nonni say “God blusha you” many times but didn’t understand what or why she was saying that.
She explained that envy hurts the giver and the receiver. It is important to break the negativity so that both the giver and receiver can be healed.
She had a point.
Harboring ill will for another person can eat us alive.
She handed me a tiny gold horn and told me to wear it around my neck. She explained that for it to work, the cornicello had to be a gift.
“No thank you, Nonni. I’m ok.” When I refused, I noticed that it didn’t affect her at all.
“When you need it, you comma back to me,” she said with surety.
Although I never accepted the cornicello from Nonni when she was alive, she passed it on to my mother after she died. Mom gave it to me. I quietly tucked it away with my jewelry.
I’m still a skeptic when it comes to the evil eye. Though I must admit, envy is an ugly emotion that can tie someone up in his own insecurities. Its venom poisons its bearer and it can easily distance two people from one another or even destroy a relationship.
Nonni’s cornicello sits in the top drawer of my jewelry box. I have never worn it, but I have never given it away, either.
Who wants to take a chance and do that?
