Everyone Has A Story

Hello all,

First of all, I want to wish a very special girl a happy DOUBLE champagne birthday!  Zara is 7 years old on the 7th day of the 7th month. How special is that? Happy birthday, sweetheart. 

Second, I am very sad to say that tonight will be my last night in Portugal. Tomorrow afternoon I cross the border into Spain.  When I walked the Camimo there in 2003, I would have to say that the Spaniards displayed less "sympatico" than I have found here in Portugal. Hopefully, things will have improved since then. 

I walked all day yesterday with a couple from Ireland, Brenda and Nick. He marched on ahead and Brenda and I lagged behind. At one point, I apologized for slowing her down but she said," Are you kidding? You are saving my knees." 

She told me that their 27 year old son had died suddenly a couple years ago and explained how each of them was coping with their grief. Nick started training for Iron Man competitions and Brenda started a theology degree. She proudly told me that she was the first person in her family to ever go to university.  Each of them is coping in a personal way and yet they hold onto each other for the comfort that no one else can understand or give them.  I cannot imagine what they have gone through and then to be able to, so kindly, give me their story. Everyone has a story and, on the Camimo, most of those stories are powerful ones.

  

Today's highlights consisted of the following:

1. Walking almost entirely on back roads and through forests in 25 C temperatures. 

2. Meeting 2 lovely sisters from New Zealand and a beautiful young (20-ish) boy from Florida. He started in Lourdes in France and is walking to Fatima. He just radiated some kind of really rare spiritual inner beauty. 

3. Climbing 455 meters straight up a hill. I had read the map incorrectly and thought that this climb was before the hill and that I hadn't done the hill yet. When I reached (what I didn't realize was) the top, there was a group chatting and they told me that I had already climbed it! They got quite a laugh out of my mistake. My relief was enormous. (Those walking sticks sure came in handy today, SB!) The funny thing about hills is, no matter how hard it is to climb them, you never know what kind of miracle might await you at the top.

4. Meeting a Portuguese man and his daughter at the top of the hill. She asked me what I thought of her country and, when I told her,  the father just started to cry. He tried to talk to me but couldn't. We just hugged each other and went on our way. These powerful emotional "mini moments" happen often on this journey. 

I'm very sad to leave this country. It is filled with very kind and big hearted people. Muito sympatico. 

I am going to leave you with a bit of Portugal that pleased me so much when I heard this.  This group of young men played for hours on the streets in Coimbra one day to the great pleasure of the crowd and, especially, me. 

Adeus Portugal. Tu es muita bela! Obrigados, Obrigadas!