Ave Maria at a wedding in Catania: the witnesses' gift and grandma Ninetta's candle

Every 5 February, for sixty years, grandma Ninetta went out into the street in the white robe of the devotees, a candle in hand, behind the bust of Saint Agatha. Her granddaughter is called Agata, and that's no accident. This is the story of an Ave Maria at a wedding in Catania, of two witnesses who agreed on nothing, and of a wedding gift that couldn't be wrapped.

Two witnesses, two ideas for a gift

Orazio, the groom's older brother, had made up his mind. "A weekend in the Aeolian Islands. I'll pay half. End of discussion."

Ludovica, the bride's best friend, looked at him over her coffee cup, in a café in piazza Università. "Agata and Rosario go to the Aeolians every summer. I'd like to give them something they've never had."

"Like what?"

"The Ave Maria. Sung by a real tenor. In church."

Orazio laughed. "You can't see music in photos, Ludovica. In ten years nobody will remember it."

Ludovica didn't reply. She was thinking of a February evening many years before, when she and Agata, as little girls, had followed grandma Ninetta through the crowds of the festival. She was thinking of what grandma had said, holding her lit candle.

Grandma Ninetta and Saint Agatha's candle

That evening, in the crush of via Etnea, grandma had stopped in front of a church from which singing could be heard. A single voice inside was singing the Ave Maria. The whole crowd around them had fallen silent.

"Listen," she had told the girls. "When Our Lady hears singing like that, she looks out."

Agata still remembered it. She had told Ludovica a week earlier, while they were choosing the dress. "I'd love to hear that Ave Maria at my wedding. But Rosario says the parish choir is fine. And it costs nothing."

Grandma Ninetta had been gone for three years. Her last candle, half burnt, Agata kept in a drawer, wrapped in an embroidered handkerchief.

"With gratitude in your hearts": why the Ave Maria deserves care

Ludovica didn't give up. She went to talk to Father Nunzio, the priest who would celebrate the wedding, in a church in the old town a few steps from the Cathedral.

"Father, do you think it's a waste to pay a singer for Mass?"

The priest took a Bible from the table. "Saint Paul, in the letter to the Colossians, says to sing to God with psalms, hymns and songs, with gratitude in your hearts. Singing is a way of giving thanks." He closed the book. "And when we give thanks, we don't give what's left over. We give the best."

Ludovica left with a clear mind. Orazio still had to be convinced.

"When we give thanks, we don't give what's left over. We give the best."

Orazio's test

Ludovica looked for a wedding tenor in Catania. She listened to live recordings, in church, until she found the voice she was looking for. Then she sent the link to Orazio, without writing anything.

The reply came two hours later. A single message: "I listened to it in the car. I had to pull over."

The next day they met at the café again. Orazio paid for the coffees, something he never did.

"Let's do it," he said. "But let's do it properly. He should sing at the reception too. When Rosario walks into the hall he has to feel like a king."

The tenor agreed. He would sing the Ave Maria after communion, the hymns of the Mass together with the parish choir, and then at the reception, accompanied by the piano. The couple wasn't to know anything.

The wedding day: the Ave Maria and the candle

On the wedding day Catania was full of sunshine and the scent of orange blossom. Agata entered the church on her father's arm. Rosario was waiting at the altar, moved and a little stiff, like on the first day of a new job.

Mass went by serenely. Then, after communion, Agata walked to the altar of Our Lady with a bouquet of white flowers. And a voice, from the back of the church, began the Ave Maria.

Agata stopped. She recognized that feeling. The crowd on via Etnea, the candle, grandma's hand. She turned towards Ludovica, who was already crying. Then towards Orazio, who was staring at the floor so as not to be seen.

Rosario, at the altar, felt the tears come without warning. He couldn't explain it. He only knew that in that moment he was praying for Agata, for them, for everything that was to come.

"When Our Lady hears singing like that, she looks out."

The hall at the foot of Etna and the half-burnt candle

The reception was in a hall at the foot of Etna, the dark volcano outlined against the sunset sky. During the aperitif the piano played softly among the tables. When the couple entered the hall, the tenor welcomed them with a famous aria. Rosario, just as Orazio had wanted, truly felt like a king.

When it was time for the cake, Agata asked for the microphone. From her bag she took out the embroidered handkerchief and opened it. Inside was grandma Ninetta's candle, half burnt.

"Grandma used to say that when someone sings well, Our Lady looks out," she said, her voice trembling. "Today she looked out. And grandma with her." She looked at the witnesses. "Thank you. I'll never forget it."

The tenor began a romanza. Orazio, the man who had wanted to give a weekend in the Aeolians, wiped his eyes with his napkin and didn't even try to hide it.

Because an Ave Maria at a wedding as a gift for the couple can't be seen in photos. It is felt. And what is felt, unlike photos, never fades.

Elegant music for the reception hall in Catania

In Catania a wedding doesn't end with the last note in church. It continues in baroque villas, in halls at the foot of Etna or overlooking the sea of Aci Castello. And there, the most attentive couples ask for the same care they gave the ceremony. Elegant music for the reception hall can be a tenor accompanying the couple's entrance with a famous aria, a piano that makes the aperitif refined, a romanza when the cake is cut. A few well-chosen moments are worth more than hours of background music.

Would you like to hear the Ave Maria that made Orazio pull over?

Do as he did: listen to it in the car, in silence, and see if you can keep driving. Listen to Maestro Ilarion live in church. Then imagine your own church and your own Ave Maria.