Even They Are Glorious

by Jen Manglos | Seattle, WA

Not again! Those three mean older men are once again at my albergue. I cannot seem to escape them. I started seeing them around Day 3, one proudly lounging on his bunk with only tighty-whities on for all to see. In the nights to follow at other albergues, one or two of them will continue treating the rest of us to their underwear show. I am not only bothered by their skivvies on display; they also behave rudely and never respond to my “Buen Camino.”

On this day, I’d made excellent time, arriving before the albergue opened. I plopped my bag in line and dropped to the ground, exhausted. Several other pilgrims were hanging out, and we fell into conversation. When the doors opened, the three rude companions cut the line! The rest of us erupted in protest, but they sneered and moved forward. I fumed over the injustice. How dare they treat their fellow pilgrims as if we don’t exist? There is room at this albergue for us all, but their slight still feels like such an insult.

After checking in, I unpacked my bag, all the while thinking up insults in their language. My aunt coincidentally is fluent in their language and had once mentioned that the biggest insult in that tongue is to tell someone their mother had raised them poorly. I consider emailing her to ask for the phrase but decide against it, though I still can’t shake my anger.

The next morning as I started my walk, I wondered why I continued to see these men every day. Perhaps this was God nudging me to expand my view and consider another way. What if I saw their presence as an invitation to love, rather than as a nuisance?

Early on, I’d begun a daily practice of praying for all my new camino friends, but until that moment I hadn’t considered praying for the pilgrims who annoyed me. Begrudgingly, I began to pray for these three men, who I came to consider my three guys. I prayed that their walk would go well and that God would change my feelings toward them. 

A few days later, as I walked and prayed, I listened on my phone to “This is Me” from The Greatest Showman soundtrack. This song has come to define the Camino for me. Anytime I hear it, chances are high I will break into tears (and possibly into dance, too). A line from the song goes, “For we are glorious.” When I hear those lyrics, images of everyone I met on camino scroll across my mind like a slideshow. I feel such love for them, almost as if I’m experiencing a fraction of God’s love toward them. I cry, because we are so glorious and so loved, even in all of our messiness. My three guys are part of the slideshow. I cry for them, too.