Outside of Viloria de la Rioja heading into Beldora I saw a pilgrim that was walking in obvious pain. The pilgrim was practically completely bent in half leaning heavily to her left, supporting herself on her poles. Her whole body seemed to be collapsing on itself. When I got to her I was told by another pilgrim that she was having back spasms.
“Last night I had a terrible cough. I was coughing so hard that I threw my back out.” She explained as she bent over even further.
Wow! That must have been some cough I thought. I can’t say that I have ever coughed that hard before.
“Do you want some Advil?” I asked her. “I have plenty to share.” I hadn't needed any Advil for myself for the past few days so I could definitely spare some.
“That's OK. I have some super pain medication, but I don’t want to take it because I think that if I take it I will just want to fall asleep.”
“Well the Advil might take the edge off your pain and it won’t make you tired.” I told her.
She eventually accepted, she took my Advil gratefully and then proceeded to lie down on the side of the gravel road. It was a relatively ugly stretch of El Camino, the gravel road closely parallel to a busy highway.
“I just need to stretch for a minute.” She said with a wince in her voice.
I didn’t know quite what to do. I couldn’t just walk away from someone who had literally collapsed in front of me, could I? She waved me on.
“I just need to rest, you keep going.”
“Are you sure?” I asked dubiously.
“Yes, thank you for your caring.” She said in a matronly and dismissive tone.
“Well OK," I paused trying to think this through, "there are many other pilgrims coming just a few minutes away, so if you need help make sure you ask them, OK?”
She nodded and grimaced at the same time. She brought her hands to her face and covered her eyes. The last thing I heard her say as I turned to walk away was “I hope that I can recover from this.”
I left her thinking firstly that the bar for caring must be pretty low. To be thanked for caring when all that I did was provide two Advils and then essentially walked away seemed crazy to me. But perhaps sometimes doing even the most little something is all that is needed. How much better is a little something than nothing?
I also thought about how much she must want El Camino. To be lying in pain in the dust at the road’s edge and to verbally wish for a goal that might not be in her future. I thought about what are the things that I want so badly that even if I was literally laying down in the dirt I would still fight for.