Camino memories....

I think it was coming out of Zubiri the day Ed, a just retired assistant anesthesiologist from New York, met up with our little gang of peregrines.  Ed talked....and talked.....and talked some more!  Ed was definitely in need of company on this day . And, with proper camino etiquette, Ed asked if he could join our group. His dry humor had us laughing quickly and he soon became part of our walking family...a gang of about five at that point.    It turns out Ed had walked alone the first four days....NOT his plan....and I cannot quite imagine  chatty Ed as having chosen this Camino to be a solitary affair.  Ed's wife Camille had twisted an ankle just days before they were to set off.  Camille was now waiting in Pamplona having to miss the first 4-5 days of the walk.   It was charming to listen as Ed called her throughout the day, sharing sights and adventures she was missing.  No doubt this man loved his wife and no doubt he missed sharing this experience with her.  His voice told it all.

 I just realized I have digressed from my original thoughts about that day. I'll get back to chatty Ed and wonderful Camille another time as we do meet up with them throughout our Camino.

Coming out of Zubiri was a long morning. By 11 AM with no cafes in sight, it was clear that the snacks we had purchased in a local tienda the evening before were going to be much needed. And, between us, we had almonds, oranges, crackers, apples , a banana, dark chocolate ( we ALWAYS had dark chocolate bars) .... A mid -morning feast as we perched on a ledge along the cafe wall....closed, of course, on that particular Monday.

Along the path we had passed an elderly Korean woman, someone we came to know by sight throughout the remainder of our camino.  She chose to carry her her large pack with the waist strap un-cinched.  The weight on her shoulders must have felt extraordinary.  She was stocky and strong;
small in stature.  Coming upon us , and I do not even recall how we knew she was
without proper food and water supplies for the long path of that morning, we knew she was hungry.
And, as pilgrims always do, we offered to share our feast, which she gracefully turned down.   A bit  of coaxing though and  we were able to convince her it was perfectly okay, we had plenty and wasn't sharing part of the camaraderie of the Camino after all?   She agreed and happily sucked orange segments, munched almonds and crackers, and savored that beautiful chocolate.  She chatted ever so briefly, then  was off, pack weighing heavy over her shoulders.

The next day, walking through a magnificent  glade of woods,  we came upon her again. Excited to see us, and after the prefunctory " BuenCamino! " greeting, she stopped us and offered us all a share of her salty potato chips. " Salt is important on this walk" she said.  The remarkable moment was this:
as she passed the sack to each of us, one by one, she bowed person to person and thanked each for the portion of the mid -day snack they had provided the previous day. "For the orange" to Ed, " For the almonds" to Guy, " For the crackers" to Paul and " For the chocolate" to Liz.
I  recall being so deeply touched by her gratitude and I am touched again now as I write of this lovely
woman.

Lesson: Never, ever believe that the smallest measure of sharing does not count immensely in the
eyes  and heart of another.