Finding Welcome & Shelter with Belén

by Linnea Hendrickson | Albuquerque, NM

I rested in the sunshine under ancient oak trees on a grassy hillside overlooking the village of Agés on the Camino Francés. The trees reminded me of the myth of Philemon and Baucis, the old couple who unknowingly host the gods Jupiter and Mercury. As a reward for their hospitality and kindness, Zeus grants them their wish to remain together always, transforming them into trees to stand side by side.

A certain man had been in my thoughts as I walked. While I sat under those trees, I listed the pros and cons of joining my life with his. “Yes! I should marry him!”, I said to myself, and at that moment, the church bells rang in the village below as if in celebration. My feet now light with joy and energy, I walked through the village below and up the hill on the other side.

From its summit, I saw the meseta stretching forever in the distance, and below me lay the village of Cardeñuela Riopico, where my guidebook listed an albergue. But I walked the length of the village and found nothing.

I returned to a bar, the only business spot open, and asked “¿Dónde está el albergue?”

“¡Cerrado!” the barmaid responded with annoyance. “Nada por aqui! Take the bus to Burgos!” 

“¿Hay una casa rural?” 

“¡Cerrado!” Closed.

My joy evaporated. I would rather sleep outside under my little blanket than take a bus, and I was exhausted from the day’s emotional and physical ups and downs. I’d walked 23 kilometers and couldn’t do another 16. A Swedish couple sat in a corner. “Come with us,” the man said.  “We’re walking to the bus.”  

When we reached the shuttered casa rural, the woman said, “Ring the bell! Perhaps someone will answer.”

I rang, and to my amazement, a beautiful woman opened the gate. 

“Do you have a room for the night?” I asked.

“Sí!”, she smiled. “Do you want dinner, too?”

She led me to a room with a flowered bedspread and a modern bathroom. It was paradise to this tired peregrina.

“¿Cómo se llama?” I asked. “What’s your name?”

“Belén,” she replied. Belén— the Spanish word for Bethlehem! Was this a miracle?

I, who thought I’d have to sleep in a field that night, found welcome and shelter with Belén. I had happy dreams, and the next day in Burgos, I sent an email to the man who had occupied my thoughts the day before.

“I’ve decided to marry you!”