In no particular order:
Mr. Straw Hat from San Fransisco. We met him the first day as we all laboured up the Pyrenees toward Orisson. We travelled separately, but kept approximately the same speed and number of rest times, so passed each other several times. Ate dinner together that first day, and we carried on while he stayed for the night. He's wearing an old straw hat that he intends to leave at the Iron Cross as the symbol of his burdens. He's a "devout ex-Catholic" (whatever that means) and 72 years old. I expected that we might have seen that hat since then, but so far ... No. I hope when we get to the Iron Cross, that hat is there and we will know Mr. San Fransisco has made it that far.
Diana from Maine - can't quite remember where we met first, but for several days in week one, we met each other often. It was always a positive interchange, and since we last saw her at noon six days ago in the mountain village of Villamayor, we have thought about her often. She also had celebrated her 40th anniversary this year, so the conversation was easy. She kept a steady pace most of the time, but struggled on the uphills because of breathing problems. I suspect she is not far behind or ahead of us, and we would all be delighted to meet again.
Beth from Maine - met on day zero in SJPDP - and again on day 9 at breakfast in Los Arcos. She had struggled severely the day before, and made some major changes in her plans on day 10. Because of those changes, we probably will not meet again, but in case she somehow reads this, we're glad we were there when you needed help. We hope our conversation was of some help. And we'd like you to know that your pluck at even attempting this on your own was an is an encouragement to us.
Sophie and Domi - from Belgium - I saw him first one day - offering help to pilgrims who were struggling. The next day we stayed in the same albergue again, and in the morning they shared their breakfast with us. He may read this, because I shared my blog address with them. If you do read this Domi, I'd like you to know that when you came back to us that morning, and gave us a blessing just because you knew I was pastor - that act was very meaningful to me. I did not respond appropriately because I did not realize what you were doing, but you touched us deeply with your humility.
The boys - and their parents - from Maine. (Is anyone left in Maine, or are they all on the Camino?) I wrote another blog about them, but they deserve honourable mention here, because they made that day special.
There are others, but time is running out. I'll probably write a "People 2" blog later.
But in the meantime, I'm thinking that in this regard the Camino de Santiago is no different than the Camino of our Life. We meet people our lives intersect for a while, we hopefully do good for each other, and in God's providence we may meet again. So many people ... I wonder where they are today.
PS - as I write this, I have just learned that one of the elderly ladies in our congregation has died. Matie was in her late 90's, and for the last (I'm guessing) 70% of her life! she has been a faithful servant of God. The church has lost a great prayer warrior this week, but there is one thing we don't have to wonder. I visited Matie the week before I left, and as usual, her spirit was an encouragement to mine. Blessings on your memory, Matie. Well done. Well done indeed!
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