I changed my mind.  I was going to wait till next Friday to give you Cris’s next installment of her Camino revelations but I think it is better to give you the next one which I have on hand.  Yesterday’s post was an introduction really to a group of three.  So here we go with number one:

 

The Irish Pilgrim

“This was a beautiful albergue. We were assigned to a big room, with bunk beds but with quite a nice space between one and the other. We were asked that the youngers of us would take the top bunk bed to leave the others for those with more troubles to get up there. With only 39, I thought I fitted the “younger of us” category and took the top bed.
As most of the other pilgrims, I started my unpacking routine: sleeping bag, towel, clean clothes for after the shower, plus the t-shirt for the following walking day (yes, I had an “afternoons T-shirt” ), soap for the after–shower-laundry. And I noticed that the pilgrim in the lower bed was quiet, though sitting in the bed. I decided to go quieter, despite I was not being noisy.

“I saw his walking shoes on the side, and from my view I could only see his feet… his blisters were horrible.

“I took a step back, looked at him and said “that must be painful”, he nodded; and he said he would have liked to see a doctor but it was Sunday and was told there was nobody in the pueblo. I offered him I could have a look. He said nothing.

“I went for my shower, went to the patio to do my laundry and as I was finishing, I saw him. I looked for a shade, on the right of the albergue entry, next to the big table, I set up 2 chairs, I went upstairs to pick up my kit and wave him, kind of inviting him to come. He approached like with shyness, as if he would be bothering me for doing so.

“We started to talk, as I was taking care of his blisters. He was Irish, in his early 60ies, his wife had died, his children were in Australia, he told me he lived in a beautiful landscape, surrounded by nature and his town was a beautiful place too. I finished, he did not say much but he said he was with less pain.

“As I was sitting there, another lady came to ask me about her knee but she was German and we couldn’t understand too well. We had the afternoon tea, and I lost track of the Irish pilgrim until the vespers and the mass. When I went to bed, there he was, asleep already.

“The following morning, while Tom, the hospitalero was making breakfast for us, the Irish pilgrim me and with tears in his eyes said to me that he was surrounded by nature and his town was a beautiful place but he was lonely, and that at times he felt he was invisible, forgotten, but when I “saw” him the day before, he felt “seen”, and when with my offer to take care of his blisters he felt “cared” and “attended” when I set up the chairs, and he just went silence because he couldn´t find the words to tell me how important I had been for him.

“I couldn’t find words for him either. I just said Thank You and I held his hands and I could feel my eyes were teary too.

“I did not see him again that day or the days after. I hope he followed my advice of resting a day, Tom, the hospitalero was going to offer him to stay one more day. Tom had told me the previous night that the very little we can offer for others can be all they need. He was right.”

Cris