On my way out of Algara I visited the church of Immaculate Conception which I found to be under massive reconstruction. I walked in quietly, spotted three workmen in hard hats to my left. They were quite busy studying plans of the work going on. No one saw me. I walked a little further in and snapped a couple of pictures. Then I turned to leave and noticed a sign posted on the door in bright handwritten red letters. I think it said something like, “Stay out of here!”
I didn’t take time to use Google Translate.
Continuing my meandering walk toward the train station, next stop, Tuleda. I spotted some interesting pastry. A flat thin crust about 6-7 inches covered with slivered almonds. I really did try to pass by. Somehow I ended up in the shop asking about the almond delicacy in the window.
The young man asked if that was all I wanted. I told him I would like one of everything but couldn’t carry it with me. He unceremoniously jammed one of the almond pastries in a paper bag.
We chatted a little bit. I thought his price for the morsel was quite a lot compared to other purchases along the way. About three times what I expected to pay. I did not question or challenge him. I talked with him becoming a person and not just a backpack wandering through his city.
I watched the change in his face as he shared about himself and things that are important to him. As I was leaving, he called to me to wait.
I think his over pricing was tugging at him.
He took a bag with at least a dozen freshly baked muffins from the shelf and handed them to me. “A present,” he said, proudly. “A present.”
He smiled and all was well in both of our worlds -as they touched.
To the Estación de Tren. As is my pattern I arrived early- never know who is there waiting.......
I sat by myself on a concrete step that was warmed by the sun. A young woman came to sit near me to share the warmth. We attempted some conversation.
Eva is a student. Her parents helped her to get established here for school. I could feel, mixed with her excitement about school, a tinge of homesickness. First time she had ever been separated from her family. She was the first of the children to leave home. The heart message I heard: this was very hard!
We talked about family we laughed as we shared stories. Then I remembered the dozen muffins that I had separated into two bags in the right and left pockets of my jacket. She was going to visit friends. Maybe she would like to bring some muffins.
I offered one bag of six to her. At first she was shy about taking them. Then I showed her the other bag and told her the story about how I got them. I assured her that I would like to share them. She said, “I didn’t eat any breakfast and I am hungry." So much for her friends.
Thank you Spirit of the Camino, for knowing needs before I do. Thank you for a heart hungry longing for the nurturing of motherly love.
Thank you for the guilt of a boy who made this sharing possible.
Thank you for my weakness for almond pastry that drew me into the shop.
Thank for a church under construction, reminding me that every one of us, at some time in our life, wears a sign that says, “keep out! don’t enter.” All the while hoping that some one can’t read the sign.
Buen Camino!
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