Materice and Očići — Almost Forgotten Christmas Traditions

In the traditional life of the Dalmatian hinterland and the wider Adriatic region, December has always been a month of special customs. Alongside the Christmas atmosphere, festive table preparations, and various folk rituals, December Sundays were eagerly anticipated within families. Although today’s generations rarely practice these customs, many of our grandmothers and grandfathers still keep them alive in their memories as the warmest moments leading up to Christmas.

The third Sunday of Advent was reserved for celebrating Materice – once one of the liveliest family traditions. On that morning, mothers and grandmothers knew a cheerful “ambush” awaited them. As soon as they appeared in the kitchen or stepped out of their rooms, children would laughingly tie them up with a rope or symbolically “imprison” them, demanding a “ransom.” No gifts — no freedom. Mothers would pretend to be surprised, fake resistance, or try to negotiate, while the children excitedly waited for the moment when small gifts would be placed into their hands: walnuts, almonds, dried figs and prunes, or an occasional sugar cube – something modest and sweet. Even though the gifts were not grand, they meant a whole fortune in the eyes of a child.

In some places, the custom carried a more ceremonial tone, so children would ask for gifts from the female family members by reciting traditional rhymes. There were several versions, but most began with the same lines:

A week after Materice, Očići is celebrated on the final Sunday before Christmas. The principle is the same, but this time it is the father who must buy his freedom. Usually, mothers, as devout keepers of tradition, would instruct the children in the morning to tie up or “corner dad” while he was still in bed. Fathers loved to pretend to flee or defend themselves, which brought even more excitement to the children and created little family performances remembered for a lifetime. The father’s ransom was usually “meaty,” meaning that the family would enjoy a richer, more indulgent Sunday lunch that day. The father would treat them to a divenica (traditional homemade sausage), cured meat, a small pečenica (cured pork loin), or he would roast bacon on a praljak (wooden stick), while children’s eyes joyfully watched the melted fat drip onto a piece of homemade bread baked under sač (a traditional iron baking dome).

In the stories of our elders, Materice and Očići are not remembered for the gifts themselves, but for the attention shown to their parents on those Sundays. That short morning ritual was an expression of respect, joy, and special care for mothers and fathers. This is precisely why today’s parents feel a gentle nostalgia: not because they received gifts as children, but because back then, they had the opportunity to give something of themselves.

In a time when everything is accessible to children without much effort, this simple gesture of “tying up” and the symbolic “ransom” reveals how little it used to take to show love and family connection. Children gifted their parents time, effort, and joy, and parents returned it with a modest ransom.

The very essence of the holidays was preserved in these morning rituals — the warmth of home, playfulness, and togetherness.

Although Materice and Očići are the most famous, in some regions another custom once preceded them both: Ditići or Ditinci, celebrated on the second Sunday of Advent. On that day, children would give gifts to their parents. These offerings were modest and often prepared in secret — an apple, a walnut, a fig, or a small handmade craft. In the church calendar, the Feast of the Holy Innocents is observed, but not until December 28th — well after Christmas, by which time most folk family traditions had already passed. Therefore, over time, Ditinci mostly remained in the stories of the elderly as a tender memory of a once highly significant beginning to the holiday celebrations. Back then, people used to say that first the children treat the family, then the mothers, and finally the fathers.

Ditinci, Materice, and Očići remind us that Christmas joy was once built on play, laughter, and small gestures rather than lavish gifts. Although rarely observed today, they still carry a message worth hearing: it takes very little for a home to be full — just a little attention, togetherness, and children’s joy.