We've safely arrived in Sarria, Spain at the head of our pilgrimage trail.
Before leaving yesterday, I remembered that, when I was very young, my father drove a Chevy El Camino. I remembered the fun my brothers and used to have riding in the back of it around our neighborhood. It was a gift to us children to do something fun and extraordinary, a treat from an elder to a younger generation. It got me thinking about roads travelled, the partners we have on the roads, and those who travelled them before us.
Today, I am grateful for the paths our ancestors carved for us. One part of pilgrimage that I find deeply meaning is taking part in a history that spans centuries and connects me to a world beyond our time. Countless thousands of individuals, whose names we will never know, whose faces we will never see, whose lives we'll never touch, made the path before us. They owed us nothing, and yet left us the gift of this pilgrimage.
I think of those kind souls who've maintained it over the years, the passersby and perhaps more official figures from governments and churches to which I do not belong. They too have kept the road for us, owing us nothing.
I think of the land owners through whose fields our path goes. I am grateful they allow us this journey.
May our time here on this path honor them and their gifts to us sojourners, travelers, pilgrims.