Tuccia and the Basket

Tuccia showing the sieve with water.
Art: Giovanni Batista Benaschi

One of the most popular and enduring goddesses in Ancient Rome was Vesta, goddess of the hearth, and it was – and in so many houses still is – the cozy hearth fire which is regarded as the central focus of family life. Vesta’s popularity endured into early Christian times, and even today her name survives (although rather commercially!) as a brand name on boxes of matches.

The temple in Rome bearing the name of the goddess was served only by those dedicated women who were chaste of body and pure of spirit: the Vestal Virgins, and it is the story of one of them which has become legend. In the 3rd century B.C. the Vestal Virgin Tuccia found herself accused of being less than the pure one which her services in the temple of the goddess demanded of her.

From one deceitful mouth to another the false and ugly rumours about Tuccia quickly spread, and the poor young woman saw herself being threatened with expulsion, and separated from the temple – and from the goddess – to which she had chosen to dedicate her life. What must she do against these cruel and baseless claims? How must she show that she was as fully worthy to serve the goddess as she ever was?

Rather than protest her innocence with words of denial Tuccia chose to keep her silence. In so many situations actions can speak louder than any words, and Tuccia’s action in her own situation was to pick up a woven wicker basket. The basket was used as a sieve, and its base was a loose open weave with many holes. She carried the sieve down to the banks of the Tiber and, silently asking a blessing from her patron goddess, dipped the sieve into the flowing waters.

The sieve held. With the wicker basket full to the brim Tuccia carefully and dutifully walked back to the temple to offer the water as a libation to the goddess. Not a drop of the Tiber’s water was spilled, and all who saw her actions were silent and astonished. They knew that only the most pure of heart, only one who was the most deserving of Vesta’s blessings, could perform such a modest miracle. And it was this that was the clear conclusion of all those who witnessed Tuccia’s feat.

How many of us have at some time suffered through injustice? How many have, like Tuccia, been forced to show that they are not guilty of the accusations against them? Sometimes words of protest are not enough, but what then? We might not manage Tuccia’s small miracle, but to remain pure of heart, to be true to ourselves even in the storm, can also be enough. That… and perhaps also to remember that small miracles can, and do, sometimes happen.