Three Times to Cruz de Ferro With No Stone

[Kevin Considine]

There are many special places on The Camino and Cruz de Ferro (The Iron Cross) in the west of Leon Province is perhaps the most spiritual. All three of my experiences there have been special and noteworthy, though this last and most recent one in July, 2017 was a powerful emotional experience.



The first was 2 years ago. I had spent 2 months traveling around Europe including an 11 day Alpine walk around Chamonix before making my way to St. Jean Pied de Port(SJPP) in the southwest of France. SJPP is the start of the Camino Frances which crosses the Pyrenees on the first day into Spain and the small Monastary town of Roncevalles. As I followed The Camino south to Pamplona and then west to Santiago I first heard of Cruz de Ferro, at 1500 meters, the highest elevation a pilgrim will reach. Fellow pilgrims talked about carrying a stone from home or a stone from the start of their Camino to lay at the base of the cross. I had no such stone and pondered for many days what to leave. On the night before reaching the Cross, I stayed at the quiet, comfortable Albergue El Pilar in Rabanal del Camino. After 26 days walking, something made me clean out my backpack for the first time since starting, and found at the bottom of my pack a large coin imprinted with “One Day at a Time”. I was given this coin by my Dad’s first cousin Danny who was more like a brother to my father. Dad had lost his older and only brother in WWII. Danny’s coin was an Alcoholic’s Anonymous (AA) Token received after his 18th year of sobriety.



I recalled putting the coin in my backpack for good luck before a 4 month trip to South America 8 months earlier. Making this more special was thinking back to the first day of My Camino. High up in the Pyrenees there were two Frenchmen giving pilgrims water and cookies and a chair to rest on simply for praying with them on behalf of any of our own family members or friends that had addiction problems. I joined them but for some strange reason drew a blank on any specific people to pray for. But as I approached the Cross I thought of Danny and several others and prayed.



On my second Camino I had been traveling in Ireland for 2 months before starting from Le Puy, France and realized after about 1200 kilometers that I had forgotten a stone again. But remembering I had a single Northern Ireland coin in my wallet. Why not leave another coin as that seemed to be a tradition for me. Finding the coin had me thinking about my recent visit to Northern Ireland where I had met with four great Camino buddies from the previous year. They had accompanied me on a walk in Newcastle in the Mourne Mountains. Paddy and Darren and their son’s Padraig and Fiontan then took me back to their homes in Lurgan, about 30 miles southwest of Belfast, where they invited me to stay with them overnight and provided me with lovely home cooked meals and plenty of pints. One Saturday night dinner was followed by a screening of “The Way”(a movie about the Camino starring Martin Sheen) in Darren’s man cave where he watches that movie religiously every Saturday night. I saw and heard first hand that while the fighting has stopped, there was still a strong tension between the Protestants and Catholics that seemed so very unnatural after spending time in the Republic where people seem so much more at ease and free of spirit. So at Cruz de Ferro I left a coin and prayed for peace in Northern Ireland and their unification with the Republic of Ireland.



Recently I completed my third Camino via de la Plata from Seville. Afterwards I traveled from Santiago to the small town of Hospital de Orbigo on the Camino Frances to volunteer as a hospilatero where I would be working at Albergue Verde taking care of Camino pilgrims; helping with check ins, cleaning, and doing small things for the pilgrims to make their stay more pleasant. At the albergue there was a Frenchman from Paris, Alain, who has MS and was in a wheelchair. His friend Alice had to return to Paris for a week and would be returning in a few days with a friend as she would need help to push Alain and his cart over the mountains of west Leon and Galicia. I had no specific plans for after my hospilatero gig so I told Alain if he needed help I would be honored to assist them.





The evening his friend Alice returned he and Alice approached me and accepted my offer to help. So a few days later I found myself nearing the Cross for a third time thinking with a smile that once again I have no stone to carry. Then I realized I carried my prayer stone and could leave it and pick up a new one. But I then thought this is not my Camino and I am here simply to help Alain so I would not leave a stone. So we reached the cross and as there was a small hill at the base we had to help Alain out of the wheelchair and assist him up the hill the last 25 feet. Moments later I had my arm around Alain on one side and my friend Maud had him on the other side as he held on to us and struggled up the final part of the hill. A few feet before reaching the cross it dawned on me that I carried no stone but was carrying a MAN up Cruz de Ferro. I emotionally broke down and stumbled and almost dropped Alain but recovered and held him as he left a stone for his son.



With over 200 days on The Camino now I have learned that it is much more than a walk. Magical things do happen here. As time passes since that morning at the Cross I have come to realize that it was not I helping Alain at Cruz de Ferro but all of us helping each other. Pictured below is our Team: Me, Guillaume, Maud, Alain, and Alice.


From the blog www.thesenioradventurer.com

 

[Sailor]

Thank you Mister Kevin. I have checked your blog, good interesting photos. Good luck, que la luz de Dios alumbre su camino.

 

[Gailsie]

So well written, I felt I was along with you, thank you so very much. I had tears while reading about Alain's walk up to leave his stone, what a camino he must have had. My own experience in 2009 was emotion, I sobbed from the first moment the Cruz de Ferro came into view, through my time at the site and until I could see it no longer, as I was leaving a stone for one of my younger sisters who had died too young of breast cancer.

 

[Camino Chrissy]

What incredible stories of your times at Cruz de Ferro! I had goosebumps as I read them. Thank you so much for taking the time to tell us about your experiences and blessing those of us on this forum. For those who have crossed your path and gotten to know you on your walks, I would venture to say they were richer for having met you.

 

[CaminoDebrita]

I didn't think reading a story about Cruz de Ferro could make me cry, but wow---it did. Thanks for sharing it.

I will admit that I have given Cruz de Ferro quite a bit of thought, and I have been there twice. The first time, I could barely get up and over it quickly enough. Yes, I walked up it, right to the base of the cross, as I'm sure most do. I was surrounded by all the stuff that people leave, and was reminded by many forum members' reminders of how hard it is to clean up the flotsam and jetsam.

But right there was a collection of about twelve photos of a young Asian woman, from first grade all the way up through twelfth, her senior photo. Someone's lovely daughter, all the way through school. From the time she was a little grinning toothless cutie up until she had reached calm young adulthood. It just floored me to consider the loss, especially in the context of ours. My parents lost my brother when he was just a year out of high school.

I also had the epiphany that I did not need to leave a stone. I have always carried, in my heart, the memory of those who have gone before me. I gladly carry the "burden" of my loved ones' memories, and the best tribute I can give is to aim to practice their best qualities--my brother's humor. My dad's humor--and such a fun guy. My mom's friendliness and beautiful smile. I can carry those traits forward and it is no burden at all.

The actual burden of grief is much heavier than a small stone. Grief we must all leave behind as soon as we can, as life is for the living---those of us living, and the practice of living with a sense of joy. The best tribute to those we love is to move on as quickly as we can, and be funny, loving, curious, and interested in others. Easier said than done, my friends, but that's what I'm thinking today.

 

[Camino Chrissy]

I didn't think reading a story about Cruz de Ferro could make me cry, but wow---it did. Thanks for sharing it.

I will admit that I have given Cruz de Ferro quite a bit of thought, and I have been there twice. The first time, I could barely get up and over it quickly enough. Yes, I walked up it, right to the base of the cross, as I'm sure most do. I was surrounded by all the stuff that people leave, and was reminded by many forum members' reminders of how hard it is to clean up the flotsam and jetsam.

But right there was a collection of about twelve photos of a young Asian woman, from first grade all the way up through twelfth, her senior photo. Someone's lovely daughter, all the way through school. From the time she was a little grinning toothless cutie up until she had reached calm young adulthood. It just floored me to consider the loss, especially in the context of ours. My parents lost my brother when he was just a year out of high school.

I also had the epiphany that I did not need to leave a stone. I have always carried, in my heart, the memory of those who have gone before me. I gladly carry the "burden" of my loved ones' memories, and the best tribute I can give is to aim to practice their best qualities--my brother's humor. My dad's humor--and such a fun guy. My mom's friendliness and beautiful smile. I can carry those traits forward and it is no burden at all.

The actual burden of grief is much heavier than a small stone. Grief we must all leave behind as soon as we can, as life is for the living---those of us living, and the practice of living with a sense of joy. The best tribute to those we love is to move on as quickly as we can, and be funny, loving, curious, and interested in others. Easier said than done, my friends, but that's what I'm thinking today.

Wow! You have conveyed some very beautiful and inspiring thoughts. Thank you for sharing them...your post is another one that made my day!

 

[CaminoDebrita]

Wow! You have conveyed some very beautiful and inspiring thoughts. Thank you for sharing them...your post is another one that made my day!

I'm so glad, @Camino Chris! I would never encourage someone to let go of their grief before they are ready, but no one was around to talk with me about that after my brother died. Finally, a much older boyfriend said to me, "what do you think your brother would think about you thinking of him in terms of his death, not his life, which was amazing?"

 

[Camino Chrissy]

I'm so glad, @Camino Chris! I would never encourage someone to let go of their grief before they are ready, but no one was around to talk with me about that after my brother died. Finally, a much older boyfriend said to me, "what do you think your brother would think about you thinking of him in terms of his death, not his life, which was amazing?"

It took me two years to let go of the grief from losing both parents, who lived nearby and died just one week apart. I was 43, married with children of my own, and still felt like an orphan.

 

[jmcarp]

What a wonderful story! There are few pilgrims who are not touched by their experience at the Cruz de Ferro, and each undoubtedly has a special memory of their experience there. Here's our story...
When my wife and I walked the Camino Francés in 2013, I carried a small cloth bag of pebbles upon which I had written the names of all the friends and family whom we would be praying for as we walked. Leaving SJPP, we took one stone from the bag each morning and each lunch time, and prayed for that person as we walked during that period of the day. Afterward, we placed the pebble in a second bag to ensure that we prayed for each of the four dozen or so individuals represented. We reached the Cruz de Ferro at dawn after spending the night in Foncebadón. There were only two or three others at the site at that time. While the sunlight slowly inched its way down the tall shaft supporting the iron cross, we knelt at the base and said a final prayer for each of the persons whose name was on a pebble, then we gently placed their pebble on the massive pile of stones left by pilgrims over the years. Finally, we placed our own stones on the pile, said a brief prayer of thanksgiving, and continued on toward Santiago, relieved not only of our own burdens but also all those for whom we had been praying. It was truly the spiritual and emotional high point of our entire Camino.

 

[jmcarp]

It took me two years to let go of the grief from losing both parents, who lived nearby and died just one week apart. I was 43, married with children of my own, and still felt like an orphan.

Your experience mirrors mine--I lost both parents within a span of just four days, my mother to cancer and my dad to a stroke surely induced by the stress he was under. I was 36, and like you, married with two children of my own. It was the worst week in my life, and only my faith and the loving support of my wife got me through the next few weeks and months.

 

[Camino Chrissy]

Your experience mirrors mine--I lost both parents within a span of just four days, my mother to cancer and my dad to a stroke surely induced by the stress he was under. I was 36, and like you, married with two children of my own. It was the worst week in my life, and only my faith and the loving support of my wife got me through the next few weeks and months.

Very similar to my story. My dad died of cancer and my mother, who'd had a mini stroke five years earlier, said to me when he got very sick, "When your father dies, I don't care to live." And three days later she had a major stroke and died within a week. I felt unable to grieve them independently of each other, instead my grief was wrapped up into "one thing", which really bothered me, if you know what I mean. I am so sorry for your loss, as well.