That’s right, “auction” not “action.” I love auctions. I always have, since the time, when I was a little girl, when I enjoyed watching the annual Assumption Day auction at the little church in the tiny village in the Alps where grandpa (nonno) had his cabin: Piani Resinelli. The village was, and still is, practically deserted in winter and spring, with a few skiers going to their cabins for weekends. The Pastor of a larger village some miles away would come up on Sundays and Holy Days of Obligation to offer Mass, and had started what became a local tradition, the auction, in order to pay for repairs and improvements.
So, the week before the feast, a committee comprised by nonno, mom, brothers, sister and one maiden aunt, voted on what to contribute to the auction: mom’s famous crostata di marmellata, a concoction of sweet pie shell filled with pure, unadulterated jam. It tasted like syrup poured all over sugar (I did NOT like it). Since the cabin had no oven, mom cooked it in an ancient version of the electric skillet. She could do wonders with that contraption and, provided no one turned on any lights, the circuits would not blow up.
Next day, the entire village went to Mass, to celebrate Mary’s Assumption and, after Mass, everyone gathered outside, to enjoy the show. Here comes the auctioneer, a parishioner with a loud voice and a wicked sense of humor. Beside him his helpers gathered all the offerings of the congregation: someone’s best home-made sausages; sweet butter wrapped in leaves; fresh cheese; a basket of “cage free” eggs; incredible cakes and pastries; home-made ravioli. Every home was offering its best efforts in honor of Mary and to help support the church. Those who did not, could not, or would not cook, provided boxes of wonderful chocolates, bottles of fancy wines or liquor. Last, but also best, baskets of wild mushrooms, picked just the day before by those who knew were to look and what to look for.
Our parents and grandparents called out bids that were always greatly in excess of the value of whatever was offered, thus honoring those who donated the delicacies while at the same time contributing to the needs of the church. However, the highlight of the event was “the war of the rich folks.” These were folks whose names were written in bright letters on the largest factories in Milan, Lecco and Como and who came to spend a few weeks in their lovely chalets, sprinkled among the smaller cabins of the regular folks. Everyone’s eye was on them, and they knew it. Everyone expected them to be the largest contributors, and they never disappointed us. Thus it was that one of them would eye a likely basket of mushrooms and bid: immediately, a “rival” sent the price upward. Back and forth it went, to everyone’s great enjoyment, and the bidding only ended when the little basket of mushrooms reached nosebleed prices. Next it would be a box of chocolates, or a bottle of wine: I tell you that these generous folks paid more for the modest offerings of the villagers than anyone ever paid for even the most famous or rare delicacy. These were people whose factories provided hundreds, possibly thousands of jobs, as well as great wealth for them. But somehow, they came to this small, simple, non-fashionable little village (no movies, no shopping) year after year, and joined us in our annual feast. I am sure that they enjoyed the bidding, the giving, the feeling part of the small, tight-knit community of Piani Resinelli as much as all of us, regular folks, did. They also knew that with great wealth went great responsibility, and they opened their wallets wide.
The fun broke up around lunchtime, when everyone went home to enjoy their prizes. I don’t remember what we ever bought, I only know that it was NOT mother’s pie: alleluia!
Now we have an annual auction at Holy Trinity Parish as well. We do it to help our parochial school provide Catholic education, an environment safe from threats, and a sense of community to our children. Every year I participate because I remember the Assumption Day auction of Piani Resinelli, the sense of community, the warmth of a shared goal, and the generosity of all participants
And I am never disappointed. Although I am a stick in the mud, an early owl, a little-old-lady, a party pooper, a social moth etc. etc. etc., I get there early and stay until the end (waaaaaay past my bedtime!) and have a great deal of fun.
This year the auction is this coming Saturday, November 14th. The fun begins at 5:00 pm, the silent auction starts at 5:30 pm, and dinner begins at 7:30 pm, followed by the live auction. If you have never participated, you don’t know what you are missing.
Tickets are available at the school and at the Rectory office. What are you waiting for?
