He said “STOP!”
He held up his hand, while wearing a white helmet and clothed in civilian street clothes. And he looked straight at me as I approached the street corner. And he said “STOP!”
The crowd of young men stared at me, wondering what I would do. They were all wearing T-shirts and either jeans or shorts. And they waited.
So I stopped.
And I smiled.
And the young men then asked the boy with his arm stretched out at me, “¿Y que?” (And what?) The boy said nothing. He was possibly impaired in some way, so he didn’t seem sure what else to do. So I walked around him and the crowd of Campus Crusaders who were playing imaginary catch with the boy, and I entered the pilgrim’s reception of a tiny albergue. It’s a volunteer run place that offers lemonade and bathrooms for pilgrims. The missionaries or volunteers stay for a week or more. Seven years ago, Stephen and I were surprised and grateful for a blessing given to us by the older women volunteers.
I thanked them for their hospitality.
And I thanked the boy for his special invitation to stop.
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