Every day
We are walking through the small village of Moratinos. Sometimes me and my fellow-wanderers speak about a fascinating thing like the atmosphere of a village - why does this village feel good and another other one not at all? This place feels nice. Before the last house a man sits on a bench. Bendend forward. Watches and greets every peregrino. We walk past him, can't really see what he's doing. But something makes me turn back. I speak to him, he speaks to me, we don't and do understand each other. He is making little knots in a thin rope, at a very regular distance. And unties them again. And I realise he sits here all day and does nothing but making knots. Is he making a dark mind at ease?
In my country he would not sit on the street but we would find some official rope-knot work for him - which is actually my last job - and in this little village, in this moment of understanding each other, I see a glimpse of my own future. We shake hands. Walk on to your destiny.
Simon, the man you met is called Fran. He is "not all there," and yes, he does spend much of his time knotting his string on the days when he is more silent. On his active days he is up striding about after the pilgrims, singing old songs and using his knotted string to "measure" every doorway and window sill in Moratinos. Some pilgrims find him terrifying, especially younger women.
ReplyDeleteFran is really a gentle spirit. He is like a little child, really. I am glad you connected with him. And I am extra glad you found a good spirit to Moratinos. It really IS a gentle, positive spot on The Way.
I hope when you pass again you will stop and visit us at The Peaceable Kingdom!
Rebekah
www.moratinoslife.blogspot.com