Tarnished Beauty, by Cecilia Samartin
When I was a teenager, I traveled with my family to the land where
my grandparents were born in Spain, and it was there that I first saw
the pilgrims of Santiago de Compostella. I couldn’t imagine what
so many people from all over the world were doing along the roads of
northern Spain, laden down with backpacks, and carrying long walking
sticks that were often adorned with a solitary scallop shell. I soon
learned that these enigmatic folk had walked for weeks and even months,
traversing hundreds of miles along an ancient route almost 1000 years
old. The most popular pilgrim route then and now began in the French
Pyrenees, and crossed the vast and varied Spanish landscape for 600
miles or so before culminating in the misty green lands of Galicia where
the ultimate goal of the journey, the fantastic Cathedral of Santiago
de Compostella is located. It is said that those who complete the journey
will be rewarded with untold blessings and miracles, for it is believed
by many that in this place is interred the remains of the apostle Saint
James. What could it mean in this day and age? I asked myself, and in
typical teenage fashion, I tolerated thirty seconds or so of this quandary,
and concluded that it was a rather archaic and unnecessary hardship.
Twenty years later I had the opportunity
to visit Spain again, and ask myself the same question. And despite
my cynical tendencies, there was no doubt that something else had been
percolating within me, for this time I fully understood that a pilgrimage
experience such as this had powerful significance even in today’s
modern times. As a writer and psychotherapist interested in anything
that might inspire self awareness and growth, the idea of undertaking
the journey myself evolved from an intriguing notion into an absolutely
irresistible one. And so it was that in September of 2002, my husband
and I donned our own backpacks, took up the sturdiest walking sticks
we could find, and embarked upon one of the most fascinating adventures
of our lives. Within two weeks we walked the last 150 miles of the Camino
de Santiago, and when we arrived to the grand Cathedral itself, we knew
that we had become and would always be Santiago’s pilgrims—Peregrinos.
All throughout the journey I was struck
by the similarities between the pilgrimages of ancient times and the
migrations that take place all over the world today. These movements
of peoples across borders create political controversy and upheaval
its true, but I invite the reader to consider that they are sacred journeys
nonetheless, and in so doing to come away with a glimmer of the hope
and mystical beauty I experienced while on the Camino de Santiago.
I suppose that it isn't completely accurate
to say that I wrote Tarnished Beauty during the days that I walked
the ancient path, for I didn’t once touch a keyboard or even take
notes, but it was during this amazing time that I reflected upon my
many years of work with immigrants who had undertaken their own pilgrimages
of faith, and it was during this time that I opened my heart and my
mind to the wondrous possibilities in my own life. As I marched on,
mile after mile, passing through countless medieval villages, crossing
rivers, climbing mountains, and meeting pilgrims from all over the world,
the story and the characters within it emerged, and they began speaking
to me about life and love, and they even spoke to me about miracles.
Ever the cynic, I doubted that everything they said was true. Most unbelievable
of all was the preposterous idea that if I wrote down what they told
me Iíd one day have the opportunity to share it with people from all
over the world.
And so it is that I come to offer this
story as a writer motivated to entertain and delight my readers, as
a psychotherapist loyal to my humanistic ideals, but most of all, I
offer this story as a true believer in miracles.
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