On 1 May, we left for the deep interior of our Province, along those dirt roads where the dust announces the arrival of the visit. These brothers of the plateau came to meet us, lost in the mountains and the tracks as we were, while they who had already seen us from miles away. In the wood-burning stove, the water is heated to start a nice mate.
A new day arose, about 460 kilometers from our starting point, with a heartful of solidarity and a profound sense of brotherhood with these country brothers who are always looking forward to a visit. The sun dresses the landscape, the wind caresses what it finds in its path, silence forms the backdrop to the bleating of goats and the neighing of a few horses. Chickens parade in the courtyard, as if asking for their ration.
And the time has come to clarify what the world is going through: it is not good for them to share the bombilla that contains the mate. Between amazement and doubt, they quickly find their way out. Two bombillas are brought out, one for the family and the other for the guests. The rich aroma of homemade bread pervades the atmosphere. If they have just come out of the oven, the bread is offered and shared. A gesture full of meaning, for every believing pilgrim. In this gesture of breaking the bread, Jesus' friends recognized Him. The window we opened that morning also brought us closer to the presence of God. For them, our visit was a joy and the sharing of some time within the framework of this simplicity so full of life, which to us enriches our hearts. Time is short, but we try to visit almost everyone.
In full quarantine, we felt the call, the desire to reach this corner that we visited during the summer missions. We were willing to shorten the distance, and to share part of what the community offered to bring it to them. That, discovering the light of the Risen One, the strength of love that is abandonment and service, we continue to open and discover windows that bring us fresh air of fraternity, love for life and care for the common home.
Leo and Martín