I Didn't Think I Would ... But I Did

There's no denying that the Cruz de Ferro (or the Iron Cross) is a milestone on the Camino de Santiago.  I don't know if it always was, or if Martin Sheen in "The Way" turned it into one, but in all my experience of thinking about things Camino, the Cruz de Ferro is a milestone. 

The problem with that is, I'm not much on milestones. 

- High school graduation? Everyone knows it's a milestone.  I remember looking ahead to it, and imagining the feeling of pride as I walkied down the center aisle listening to Mrs. Ingalls band playing "Pomp and Circumstance".  And suddenly it was late June, 1971 ... and I was walking ... and the band was playing, and I distinctly remember thinking, "this is not what I imagined it would be."

So I've never been much on milestones.  It's not that I don't think there are important points in our life. I just don't think you can plan when they are going to happen.

With that in mind, I approached the Cruz de Ferro with some skepticism.  It is a "planned milestone."  You are to walk 500 km, reach this point high in the Montes de Leon, take a stone that you have carried from home, place it at the foot of the Iron Cross, recite a written prayer (or make up your own, if you'd rather) and "Presto. Emotional milestone happens."

My skepticism increased when I saw the placement of the Cross. It was beside a busy highway.  There was a huge parking lot across the road.  Many people were there who had not walked at all, let alone 500 km.  it was just too busy to be meaningful.

But ... somehow it happened. Lorraine and I stood at the foot of the accumulated stones, representing the accumulated burdens of hundreds of thousands of pilgrims who have walked past this place, and we waited our turn.  Not that there are "turns", but I somehow felt I needed a time when the top of the "burden pile" was less busy.  

So, without a word shared between us, we waited our turn.  And as we waited, the tears began to come.  There was something mysterious in the air, and it could not be stopped.  I shut my eyes to hold them in, but they insisted on squeezing out and falling on my arms. I sniffed.  Maybe that would help.  No avail. 

Let me be clear.  I did not know I had burdens.  Maybe some people do.  It's obvious by the symbols left here that some people approach the Cruz de Ferro with a very specific burden that they want lifted.  I had no such thing.  

But something was lifted that day.  I slowly walked up the mound of stones, approaching the Cross itself and it felt as if I was on Holy Ground.  For a long time I could not leave, and I could not stop weeping.  Children played not three feet from me, but I hardly knew they were there. 

Maybe they were your burdens that were lifted on that day.  It was Saturday, Sept. 27, 1:30 Spain time.  But just like I'm not a believer in milestones, I'm also not a believer that it had to be at that specific time.  So maybe it WAS your burdens that were being released.  This is, after all, a Prayer Walk.  The motto is "Every Step A Prayer."

Because something happened at the foot of the Cruz de Ferro.  If it's important for you to know what it was, you'll have to figure it out yourself.  Because I'm not a big believer in milestones.  And I'm not going to cry at the Iron Cross.

But for some reason, I did.  

PS. -  Cruiser went up the hill with me that day. He is walking for sick children, so I know he has a burden. He says he felt the same thing, and he hopes some child somewhere - maybe even Winchester or South Mountain - had some burdens released that day.