A Camino Story (The Camino Provides)... Do you have one?

[Damien Reynolds]

A "Camino Story" is a story about a freakish but beautiful coincidence while walking along the way. It is said that whatever you ask for on the Camino, you will receive. An example of a camino story I have personally experienced involves Rebecca from Australia (2009) having a vision of a Green Bicycle when she realized she did not have enough time to walk to Santiago, and then the next day one was gifted to her. It was sort of green and she rode it to complete her path. Another story I've heard is of Christina by the tienda in Rosecanvalles, just having purchased pan y salame y queso to prepare a bocadilla, but tragically realizing she had not brought a knife, when just then another peregrino exited the store by which she was seated saying, "does anyone need a knife? I have this extra..." (it came with the ham purchased or something like that...)

My story goes like this:

I was in Astorga, having arrived totally early, I wandered about the town, taking pictures, going shopping for dinner, but feeling sort of empty and alone. Later that night, after reviewing the pictures, I remembered that my new camera could do some special things with colors and effects, so I decided to figure it out. I played with the camera, adjusting knobs and pushing buttons, but I could not for the life of me make it do what was advertised when I purchased it. It was getting late so I decided that the next time I enjoyed idle time, I would download the manual and read it again.

Well the very next day I again arrived at my previously planned destination well before noon and I could not bear to idly wander a tiny spanish town (Rabanal) again, so I proceeded further along the path. My path took me to the Cruz do Ferro, (an Iron cross at the top of a mountain) where traditionally pilgrims leave behind a stone they have brought with them from home, and symbolically leave behind a chosen burden.

As I approached the cross I was relieved that there were other pilgrims there, because that meant I could have someone take my picture at the top. As I approached the Cross, a woman was instructing another woman how she wanted her picture to be taken, aligning her special pink stone in the foreground, with her as the focus at the cross. She did it in English, which made my eavesdropping more interesting.

I patiently waited as the South African woman and the French bicyclist proceeded to take 2 or 3 shots. They saw me waiting, and apologized for being in my way, to which I responded that I didn't mind at all, and I hoped when they are done they would take my picture as well... (I was also down for the break, that is quite the mountain hike). When after 2 or 3 shots the South African woman finally assured the bicyclist that her desired effect was achieved, I handed my camera to the South African and said, "Will you take mine?"

"Of course, how do you want it?"

"However you think is right." I replied.

I walked to the top of the cross, and posed in the normal sort of way, and she took a picture, and I proceeded to walk down.

And as I walked down she said to me, randomly, "you know, you can do special effects with this camera..."

And she took me through, step by step, all the special functions of my camera.

It seems she had been looking at purchasing my camera model before she left, and chose one quite similar, and had been enthralled by the special features both offered. Enthralled enough to enthusiastically share how to isolate a single color and make everything else black and white, as demonstrated by the photo I've attached.

I never saw her again. But I didn't need to download the manual after all. She was there to teach me, at the Cruz de Ferro, how to use my camera.

It may seem trite but that day and ever since I believe. The Camino Provides.

 

[mspath]

On the camino one never knows when, where or from whom a gracious gift may come. One cold November day after slogging 20 km or so from Hornillos del Camino to Castrojeriz along the top of the hills through wind, rain and a bit of sleet I finally arrived at the municipal albergue San Esteban at dusk soaked, cold and VERY tired. After climbing the steps and pushing open the door the young Spanish ad hoc hospitalero said "Margaret! How about a tea?" Steaming hot, sugared and immediately served in a jam jar the tea was offered with true caritas. His gracious smile and welcome gesture of sincere simple hospitality were symbolic of the true camino spirit. We had met earlier when pilgrim floor mates at Granon. Such shared serendipity is so very precious.

MM

 

[Margaret Butterworth]

I met an American peregrina in Sto. Domingo de la Calzada. It was Mothers Day and she was treating herself to a night in the Parador, having stayed previously for a night in an albergue with the nuns. She decided to send her backpack ahead the next day. I met her again at Villafranca Montes de Oca, where the backpack failed to arrive. I ran into her again at San Juan de Ortega, cold and wet as it had been snowing (even in May). All her gear in a tiny daypack was soaked. At midday, there was still no sign of her backpack. I needed to press on to Atapuerca, so I loaned her a warm top. I never expected to see this again, but her need was greater than mine. A couple of days on, as I was walking by the river in Burgos, there she was walking in the opposite direction to the bus station. Her backpack had finally caught up with her and she was able to return my top!

 

[bernhugo]

Margaret (MSpath) the word serendipity often occurs in your posts. Long may you have the luck of helpful occurrences. May they happen to you always.
Looking forward to the time when you post your story of your next trip to SDC>

 

[Magnara]

This happened on the Via Francigena, actually, which has far fewer pilgrims. We came to a village where we couldn't find anywhere at all to stay, and it was very cold and getting dark. We then saw a sign to a convent, knocked on the door, asked for a bed and after a moment's hesitation was invited in by a woman in black. To our surprise we realised we had misread the sign and had accidentally knocked on the door of a private house. The owner and I together changed the sheets on what was clearly her bed, me standing on one side in my hiking boots and walking clothes, her on the other. We hardly speak any Italian so we were wondering if we had misunderstood her when she said she was going to be away for the night but we were welcome to stay. Off she went, leaving absolutely everything in the house - treasures, jewellery, everything. She knew nothing at all about us, not our names, contact details, nothing. Next morning we put the key in the letterbox as asked and went off shaking our heads in amazement. One of the pleasures of the camino(s) is that you have these unexpected and heartwarming experiences.

 

[Robo]

Ask and Ye Shall Receive.......... in threes!


I have only shared this one with family and close friends.........not even on my Blog. (which hides little) Though I allude to this and a couple of other instances ..........if you're watching for it.....

But here goes............

Long story...........cut short. Well a bit shorter. You need the context.....

I wonder if this would have happened if I wasn't actively seeking and staying open to an Emotional and Spiritual journey?

I walked the Camino alone, intentionally. I am not what I would call 'religious'. More spiritual. I love spending time in Churches, Buddhist temples and the like. But I don't really have any interest in the 'formal' and ritualistic aspects of Religion.

But I visited a Church at least once every day on my Camino. It seemed the right thing to do. Just to give thanks for being able to make the journey. I started injured you see, and was truly thankful for every day I could walk.

My simple prayer each day, was "Thank you Lord for allowing me another day on this journey. I promise to walk with an open mind and an open heart'. This was offered in a Church or at times by a road side cross or merely on a hill top.

I was finding the journey a real emotional drain at times. There were issues 'back home' that others were having to deal with in my absence. I was feeling guilty about not being there, even though in reality there was nothing I could do to assist. This was going on during weeks 2 and 3 of my 6 week journey. So with that; along with my ongoing injury, there were days when I was emotionally very low.

It was about 2 hours out of Leon.......

I'd hit a real low point. I really felt my Camino was coming to an end. That I needed to go home. That it was selfish to continue this journey. I was struggling, really struggling.

I just stopped at the side of the path.

I dropped to my knees. I grasped a rosary that a Catholic friend had loaned me, as I did each day when saying my thank you....

I looked up and asked. OK. How is this supposed to work? Do you give me a sign or something?
I'm really struggling with this decision. I feel like I should go home. But should I complete this journey? Over to You..........


Not really feeling any better, I stood up and continued along the path.......


ONE.

After about 300 metres, I saw an old man with a dog walking towards me. He was stooped a little, probably about 80 years of age. He looked a bit like a Shepherd.

As we got closer, I glanced up. Looked at him and said Buenos Dias. As he replied he smiled and our eyes met.

A chill went down my spine and I stopped in my tracks, as he walked past. After a few moments I turned to look the way he had gone. He also turned and gave me a wave.

The hair stood up on the back of my neck. During that brief greeting and warm smile, the eyes looking back at me were unmistakable.
They were the loving eyes of my late Father.

Wow. What just happened I thought..... That was as very clear encouragement, from above, from beyond? Who knows? But it was Dad behind that smile! 100%.....


TWO.

As I was reflecting on this potential 'sign' I started up a small hill. I paused for reflection and to take a drink. Not 300 metres beyond where I had seen the man.

My phone rang! Due to the problems at home I made sure I was easily contactable. Though no one normally called me. I usually checked in with them when I could.
So most days I spoke to my wife. The issue at home was..... that her Father was sick....

It was my wife. Her voice was really upbeat and lifting. I asked her how her Dad was, and that I was thinking I should come home. No way she said! How can you help anyway? You're not a Heart Surgeon! Finish the journey 'for us' she said.....

I so needed that call. That call. Right then.........

Feeling much better, I now quickened my step towards Leon. Sure only another hour away.


THREE

With a bit more of a spring in my step, I started off along the gravel track....

One minute later. I heard a familiar voice behind me. An Aussie Twang.....

"Hey Robo, how you're going mate"!

It was XXX from Melbourne whom I hadn't seen in well over a week. A chirpy character with whom I'd shared some long and deep conversations whilst walking and over a glass or two of Vino Tinto.....

He clapped me on the back as he came level and we shared our journeys of where we'd been and who we'd seen since we last met. His pace was faster than mine and it was a struggle to keep up...., with my achilles injuries. But I needed this connection.. ..... Right now I needed it.

So I quickened my pace for 15 minutes or so whilst we chatted and then bid him farewell, expecting to see him down the track at some stage. I did, about 2 weeks later......

I paused for a moment as he 'took off' down the track with effortless long strides......

What the heck had just happened!!!!!


In a time of need I had asked for guidance. And in the space of 5 minutes, I was given a sign. One.....Two.....Three!

I never hit that low point again.....all the way to Santiago.....

 

[enerol]

Am 82 years old, and was walking alone,very very tired just having come down out of the mountains. I came to a highway and conserving my water which was dangerously low, I assessed my situation. I decided to wait for a car or taxi.
Obediently, I waited, nothing happened. After awhile , I talked to Jesus, telling him," I am tired, I am thirsty. . . I need a tree for shade, I need a comfortable place to sit down, I need water. . ."
About 10 minutes later, I came around a bend in the path. . And, to the right on a small incline was about a 15 foot tree. Under the tree was a park bench. Beside the bench was a kiosk and on it were bottles of water, baskets containing bananas, apples, oranges, cakes, necklaces and religious articles. Beside an empty basket was a handwritten sign . . .Donative. .

I had been forewarned if you knew who was walking with you, you would never be afraid. . .

 

[alexwalker]

I am not what I would call 'religious'. More spiritual.

Then there are two of us. Your story is beautiful. I have similar experiences, without boring you with details. But the Camino is a special place, and that is a fact.

 

[alexwalker]

About 10 minutes later, I came around a bend in the path. . And, to the right on a small incline was about a 15 foot tree. Under the tree was a park bench. Beside the bench was a kiosk and on it were bottles of water, baskets containing bananas, apples, oranges, cakes, necklaces and religious articles. Beside an empty basket was a handwritten sign . . .Donative. .

After Castrojeriz, if my memory serves me well. A very good resting place with a very nice man.

 

[Robo]

Then there are two of us. Your story is beautiful. I have similar experiences, without boring you with details. But the Camino is a special place, and that is a fact.

Come on Alex. Bore us! These types of experiences are what makes the Camino so special and not merely a long walk

 

[MKalcolm M]

When I first pondered doing the camino, I was broke, but then an unexpected inheritance meant I could just about afford it, but when I looked at the cost of clothes, boots, back pack, etc. I was dismayed. A friend who is an outdoor instructor sorted out his work clothes and gave me all the clothes I needed, my mother had an unused backpack and careful buying on ebay filled in the gaps. Ryanair had just opened flights, so they were very cheap and everything fitted into place. What appeared impossible all came together very quickly. While on the camino, I met a very sweet soul and we are still together two years later.

 

[alexwalker]

Oh, Robo, you are a good man. I will tell you.

In 2009, on my first Camino, I had climbed up on the Meseta from Castrojeriz, and I was sitting down for a break. I was thinking about my broken marriage, my recently dead dear and beloved brother, and other depressive things in my life. I was not feeling well at all. Then I saw this: A cross in the sky: Two aero planes crossing lines. They created a big cross in the sky. They strongly reminded me to put a cross over my past, and simply just move forward. So I did. The rest of my first Camino ways a joy and complete trust in the message I got up on the Meseta.

How you lure me into disclosing strange things happening on the Camino. There are more, of course.

 

[William Garza]

Am 82 years old, and was walking alone,very very tired just having come down out of the mountains. I came to a highway and conserving my water which was dangerously low, I assessed my situation. I decided to wait for a car or taxi.
Obediently, I waited, nothing happened. After awhile , I talked to Jesus, telling him," I am tired, I am thirsty. . . I need a tree for shade, I need a comfortable place to sit down, I need water. . ."
About 10 minutes later, I came around a bend in the path. . And, to the right on a small incline was about a 15 foot tree. Under the tree was a park bench. Beside the bench was a kiosk and on it were bottles of water, baskets containing bananas, apples, oranges, cakes, necklaces and religious articles. Beside an empty basket was a handwritten sign . . .Donative. .

I had been forewarned if you knew who was walking with you, you would never be afraid. . .

Absolute Beauty.
Tears with smiles!

 

[Icacos]

These stories are wonderful. Thank you all for sharing.

 

[Robo]

Oh, Robo, you are a good man. I will tell you.

In 2009, on my first Camino, I had climbed up on the Meseta from Castrojeriz, and I was sitting down for a break. I was thinking about my broken marriage, my recently dead dear and beloved brother, and other depressive things in my life. I was not feeling well at all. Then I saw this: A cross in the sky: Two aero planes crossing lines. They created a big cross in the sky. They strongly reminded me to put a cross over my past, and simply just move forward. So I did. The rest of my first Camino ways a joy and complete trust in the message I got up on the Meseta.

How you lure me into disclosing strange things happening on the Camino. There are more, of course.

View attachment 22838

More! More! I will if you will

 

[Walli Walker]

My diary entry as we left Belorado in 2009:
Fifteen minutes into the walk, and still dark, my stomach starts doing dreadful things - last night's beans? I desperately needed a loo. For the first time, as we walked alongside the main road, we came across a truck stop/service station. Not only was there a ladies' loo but it had lights, was clean, had loo paper and even soap, hot water and paper towels!!!!!!!! Thank you Saint James.

 

[peregrina2000]

In 15 years of walking caminos, I have benefitted from more kindness and unexpected gifts than one person deserves in a lifetime. Sometimes it's just the serendipity of being totally lost alone in a eucalyptus forest near Tomar on the Portugues, or wandering off in a cottonwood forest with two French pilgrims on our way into Zamora on the Levante but with no idea where to go. At exactly the moment when I was starting to wonder about what in the world we were going to do, out of nowhere those camino angels arrived to point us on our way. In Portugal, it was a man out driving around seemingly aimlessly on logging tracks; in the cottonwoods it was a man on a tractor on a weekend who materialized out of thin air and told us we were headed in the wrong direction. Those are camino angel moments, you wonder how you were so lucky.

But my absolute favorite story of the "camino providing" happened in Dumbria. I've told this story before (I'm allowed to do that since I'm old and frequently repeat myself), but I'll paste it in here, because it exemplifies what you are all talking about. BTW, if you haven't stayed in Dumbria on your way to Muxia (from Hospitales, not from Finisterre), you need to figure out a way to correct that deficit in your camino life. It's an amazing albergue paid for by the owner of the Zara stores and quite the modern, sleek, hipster place. And it is quite the wonderful town. Here goes:

I arrived at the albergue on a Sunday afternoon in July (2014). By 3 pm the place was full! Several pilgrims headed down in search of a store or a bar or some source of food. Nothing open.

Around 6 pm, I went down with another pilgrim in the hopes that something would have opened up. There we learned that usually something is open on Sunday, but today were fiestas in a nearby pueblo, so everyone was there. We called the Dumbria taxi to see if he would drive us to the fiestas where we knew there would be food, but he was having too good a time at the fiestas to come back and get us. One of the women in town told us to come back at 8 pm, something may open up then.

Back at 8, everything still closed. The women we had talked to lived on the main drag and came out when they saw us. We started to attract a crowd, and the townsfolk took it upon themselves to go to their homes and bring out food for us. Freshly laid eggs, bread, onions, tortilla, potatoes, even wine! One local woman, driving home from a funeral, stopped when she saw the crowd. When she heard the story, she told me to hop in the car and we went to her home where she got out some bread, tomatoes, and peppers. She told me a lot about her life in that short ride, how she and her disabled husband were struggling to live on 300 euros a month. Yet it never crossed her mind that there was anything unusual about a pensioner living on 300 euros a month to give food to a bunch of privileged pilgrims walking in Spain and whom she would never see again. It was humbling.

They would accept no money, but rather told us that it was their duty to make sure that Dumbria provided for pilgrims. That was another moment of disbelief, that they thought they had an obligation to take care of me. This is not the way people think where I come from, even though we have oodles and oodles more money and "things" than those villagers.

When we got back to the albergue, two Polish seminarians took charge of whipping up the meal, and then another woman from town arrived, she had heard about our plight. She brought us jars of olives and some other munchies. Why would she do that? We were astonished. We took up a collection, stuck it in an envelope and put it on the door where the "ringleader" lived. Once again, we had been enriched beyond belief by kindness and generosity towards total strangers. It may seem like a silly story, but for me it was a pretty incredible example of what humanity is all about.

May you all have similar camino moments, it doesn't get much better than this, buen camino, Laurie

 

[Robo]

In 15 years of walking caminos, I have benefitted from more kindness and unexpected gifts than one person deserves in a lifetime. Sometimes it's just the serendipity of being totally lost alone in a eucalyptus forest near Tomar on the Portugues, or wandering off in a cottonwood forest with two French pilgrims on our way into Zamora on the Levante but with no idea where to go. At exactly the moment when I was starting to wonder about what in the world we were going to do, out of nowhere those camino angels arrived to point us on our way. In Portugal, it was a man out driving around seemingly aimlessly on logging tracks; in the cottonwoods it was a man on a tractor on a weekend who materialized out of thin air and told us we were headed in the wrong direction. Those are camino angel moments, you wonder how you were so lucky.

But my absolute favorite story of the "camino providing" happened in Dumbria. I've told this story before (I'm allowed to do that since I'm old and frequently repeat myself), but I'll paste it in here, because it exemplifies what you are all talking about. BTW, if you haven't stayed in Dumbria on your way to Muxia (from Hospitales, not from Finisterre), you need to figure out a way to correct that deficit in your camino life. It's an amazing albergue paid for by the owner of the Zara stores and quite the modern, sleek, hipster place. And it is quite the wonderful town. Here goes:

I arrived at the albergue on a Sunday afternoon in July (2014). By 3 pm the place was full! Several pilgrims headed down in search of a store or a bar or some source of food. Nothing open.

Around 6 pm, I went down with another pilgrim in the hopes that something would have opened up. There we learned that usually something is open on Sunday, but today were fiestas in a nearby pueblo, so everyone was there. We called the Dumbria taxi to see if he would drive us to the fiestas where we knew there would be food, but he was having too good a time at the fiestas to come back and get us. One of the women in town told us to come back at 8 pm, something may open up then.

Back at 8, everything still closed. The women we had talked to lived on the main drag and came out when they saw us. We started to attract a crowd, and the townsfolk took it upon themselves to go to their homes and bring out food for us. Freshly laid eggs, bread, onions, tortilla, potatoes, even wine! One local woman, driving home from a funeral, stopped when she saw the crowd. When she heard the story, she told me to hop in the car and we went to her home where she got out some bread, tomatoes, and peppers. She told me a lot about her life in that short ride, how she and her disabled husband were struggling to live on 300 euros a month. Yet it never crossed her mind that there was anything unusual about a pensioner living on 300 euros a month to give food to a bunch of privileged pilgrims walking in Spain and whom she would never see again. It was humbling.

They would accept no money, but rather told us that it was their duty to make sure that Dumbria provided for pilgrims. That was another moment of disbelief, that they thought they had an obligation to take care of me. This is not the way people think where I come from, even though we have oodles and oodles more money and "things" than those villagers.

When we got back to the albergue, two Polish seminarians took charge of whipping up the meal, and then another woman from town arrived, she had heard about our plight. She brought us jars of olives and some other munchies. Why would she do that? We were astonished. We took up a collection, stuck it in an envelope and put it on the door where the "ringleader" lived. Once again, we had been enriched beyond belief by kindness and generosity towards total strangers. It may seem like a silly story, but for me it was a pretty incredible example of what humanity is all about.

May you all have similar camino moments, it doesn't get much better than this, buen camino, Laurie

Wonderful story Laurie. Thanks so much for sharing

 

[Former member 42123]

Wonderful story Laurie. Thanks so much for sharing

I realise I have told this story before,but it says so much about the people who live on the Caminn the Camino Portuguese I missed or ignored a marker,I was completely lost in the countryside.I saw a woman in a nearby field,and managed to attract her attention.I had very limited use of the language but she realised I was a Pilgrim and casting her eyes to Heaven tried to direct me on route.She realised I had no idea how to get where she directed,so she motioned me to follow her.To my utter astonishment and gratitude,after almost 20minuets she stood me beside a yellow arrow.She waved away my thanks and set off back to where she had come from.God Bless the people who live on the Camino in all countries.

 

[Ekelund]

Thank you so much for sharing your stories, I have read and enjoyed all of them! So many good things happens on the Camino. Have an open hearth and take what people offers. Be thankful for small things.

 

[SYates]

... Be thankful for small things.

I think this is one of the many powerful lessons we are all still learning on the Camino. I once compared it to a string of small pearls. One pearl is not much to look at, but a whole string of them is something quite breathtaking. As are our experiences on the camino - they add up to a string of breathtaking events. Buen Camino, SY

 

[pilgrim b]

This story of the camino providing is rather serendipitous in 2013 perigrina b and me were on the Frances she was really suffering with blisters. It was our first camino and she almost felt like giving up.We had about ten km still to go that day! Now loves ones confide with those close to them about their negative feelings and I really wanted to help but I knew my sympathy just wasn't working. Just at this point we passed a small shrine, so I stopped to write a small prayer, as perigrina b walked slowly on. As I was placing the paper into the covered shrine an oriental young chap passed by, he looked at me, we exchanged greetings. Then he walked on at a quick pace leaving me behind, as I followed he caught up with perigrina b slowed his pace, then started talking to her. Their coversation moved through many different genres and I heard her waxing lyrically about the food she enjoys cooking, and how it was done. Completely oblivious to the pain she was obviously suffering. My heart was filled with joy as they continued walking together chattering away for can you believe about eight km before he turned of the path to wait for a friend. Perigrina b was lifted out of her giving up thoughts, as I quickened my pace to catch her up. He was our kind camino angel that day,and bravely perigrina b managed her pain well for the rest of her camino. A pic of our camino provided friend below.
View attachment 22876

 

[Victoria_Peregrina]

I was walking alone, passing a cow pasture behind a wire fence. One cow was close to the path and we made an eye contact. As I was walking, I was keeping the contact and even walked backwards for a while. The cow was a game and followed me through.

When we finally parted, I was heart broken and was murmuring to myself "and when two lovers moo, they still say I love you..." My sadness was short-lived and was cured in the next cafe in the company of bipeds.

Victoria