By Sigi Scigliano

The symphony of snores wakes me up to the black velvet sky with its winking stars. It beckons me to rise. My heart twinkles. My mind, body, and spirit soar, knowing that another dream is about to come true. I slip on the clothes that I had washed the night before. The dampness is refreshing, and my body is tingling with coolness.  

As the dawn opens its warm embrace I close my eyes and look inward… My mantra. “Thank you, God, for guiding me to what I am supposed to do, where I’m supposed to go, what I am supposed to say, and to whom.”

The sun lifts its rosy rays and warms my spirit. I walked along the same route I took yesterday to be sure I knew where I was going. It looks and feels different. Is it the light that is playing tricks on me or my mind?  Either way, these ancient roads led me to where I was meant to be. 

I arrive. Alone. No one else is around. I pace back and forth knowing as usual that I am too early. As the warmth of the day arises I hear footsteps racing towards me. She’s panting as she lugs her bags and plops them near me.

 “Leggo tarde” 

“No, you are not late.”

More and more people arrived. There were tears, hugs, and well wishes as the light far off in the distance seemed to grow bigger. My heart was chugging, chugging, chugging as the rumbling got louder and louder. It’s here. My eyes scan waiting, hoping, aching … I see her waving from the window, her long strawberry-blond hair bouncing up and down. Tears were rushing, gushing down as the doors opened and Emma flew into my arms!

“Mama! I’ve missed you so much!” 

“Oh my God,  I’m so happy you’re finally here! I’ve missed you so much too!” 

We slowly released from our embrace as I caressed her creamy, velvety face and gazed into her hazel eyes.

“I can’t wait to show you the pretty plazas and the gorgeous gothic cathedral.  Are you ready? I’ll carry your backpack. Are you hungry? 

“I’m starving! I was so excited that I got to the train station an hour early!” 

“Ha, ha, ha… So did I! I thought we could drop your stuff off at the pension and get something to eat.”

Her pack seemed light as I quickly slung it over my back. Or, I’ve just gotten so much stronger from the 300-plus miles I just walked. Arm in arm we glide swiftly towards our journey together on the Camino.

As we strolled toward our pension the city started to come alive with the Spanish markets. The street vendors were selling their fresh produce and hand-made treasures. 

“Manjar-blanco, churros, flan, tarta de Santiago”,  the women sang.

(sweet milk pastry and almond cakes)

“Oliva, oliva, fresca oliva” chants another.

“Mama, I’m sooooo hungry!” she groans like the Wicked Witch “I’m melting, melting.” as she slowly collapses to the ground. 

 “Ohhhh my pretty” I cackle with laughter. “Let’s buy some scrumptious delicacies to munch on now, and later we can have a picnic by the Rio Esla.”

My magic spell worked as my daughter rose, she sang; “Food glorious, food!”

We sang and danced merrily through the market salivating with delight.