For once, something besides food drew me to a multicultural fair.

Not that my freebie radar let much escape. A quick pass at last week's Christmas Around the World celebration at the University of Wisconsin-Parkside landed me a slice of pumpkin pie, a tasty mango drink and a bite of sweetish Italian cake. I missed out on the churros by a matter of minutes.

I made a point of stuffing my head, too. Student groups of several races and ethnicities came on stage, one by one, to demonstrate their own holiday celebrations.

I'm always fascinated how religious and cultural traditions coexist. Millions of families manage to reserve seats for both Jesus and Santa in their Christmases. The more important one is too often banished to the card table, but at least we still remember who gets the thankful prayers and who gets the milk and cookies.

John Paul Surdo, president of the Parkside student group Insieme Italia, grew up with yet another honored guest. Her name is Befana.

A background sheet explained the legend. The three wise men invited Befana, an old but friendly woman, to tag along on their trip to see baby Jesus. Suspicious of strangers, she blew them off. Later, when she realized they were legit, she took off in search of the child with gifts in hand.

She's still searching. On the eve of Epiphany, legend has it, Befana leaves presents. Surdo said he typically received candy, a few bucks or a toy.

This on top of St. Nicholas and Santa, both of whom made annual stops at his household. Were his non-Italian friends jealous of the tripling up?

"We never really shared it with others, unless it was with my cousins," he wrote in a follow-up e-mail.

Although Befana won't show up in any gospel readings, she obviously didn't disrupt the church tradition in Surdo's family. He's named for Pope John Paul II.

Stacey Yang of the Parkside Asian Organization is a second-generation American whose parents came from Thailand. The group's table highlighted a couple of holidays including Hmong New Year, an ancient harvest celebration that happens around this time.

For good fortune, she said, people perform different rituals either in public or at home. One of the toughest ones involves not using cash for three days. That's a true sacrifice for college students whose idea of high living is boxed mac-and-cheese. Of course, ancient traditions can't foresee everything.

"You can get away with using plastic," Yang said.

She said many of those who converted to Christianity skip some of the cultural rituals but observe the rest. Her dad is a shaman, so her introduction to Christmas was of the secular variety.

"As we were growing up, it felt natural," she said of the blend of celebrations.

Not surprisingly, she said kids have the easiest time adapting to the new holiday; they get stuff. Although sometimes money is exchanged for Hmong New Year, Yang said parents have a tougher time getting into it.

As a semi-Irishman who'd learn Gaelic if it didn't sound like spitting, I'm happy they can preserve more than their homeland's cooking. And that it hasn't become the square peg to Christmas's round hole.

Both Surdo and Yang said they'd like to extend the traditions if they have families of their own.

As Yang put it: "We need to kind of keep in touch with our roots."

Mike Moore can be reached at (262) 631-1724 or mike.moore@lee.net