Barbara

Five days ago, I met a woman that changed my life.

She arrived by train in the afternoon. It was hot and the air in the hostel was thick with steam from the pot of pasta boiling on the stove.  I had my back turned to the door when the woman arrived and I turned around to find her wearing clothes too large for her skinny frame and a loose scarf concealing her bald head.

Barbara.

After a quick introduction of shaking hands and saying 'bonjour' she excused herself from the hostel kitchen like she was in a hurry and disappeared for a couple of hours. 

It wasn't until later in the evening that I saw her again. She smiled and as she sat down to join me at my picnic table, she reached up to make sure her head scarf was tucked in. 

It was like we'd been friends for years. We chatted about art and laughed at my terrible French skills. She asked me about my artwork and my trip and my plans. I filled her in with the details of my trip, where I've been and where I am headed next. 

Then I asked her about her story.

Barbara has cancer.

She undergoes chemotherapy three weeks a month.

And she spends the last week every month walking sections of the Way of Saint James- 500 miles to Santiago.

She doesn't know how long she has left to live, so she chooses to do the things she loves while she can still do them.

She told me her story and, when she was finished, I sat speechless for a few seconds. It was obvious that I was sitting across the table from an incredible human being- a woman of strength and courage. I stared at Barbara for a few more seconds, fighting the urge to cry.

This woman was beautiful, shining from the inside-out. Forget the fact that she didn't have any hair, she had to draw on her eyebrows, and was obviously very thin- Barbara's courageous spirit and inspirational attitude made her one of the most beautiful women I've ever met. She shone with a radiance that cancer can't beat- a   happy spirit that cannot be oppressed by sickness.

If I was dying with cancer and horribly ill three weeks a month, I don't think I'd have the motivation to hike ten miles a day; I don't think I'd have the motivation to change out of my pajamas. Barbara's attitude reminded me that happiness is a choice, not just something that we might stumble upon if we are lucky, or rich enough or pretty enough or successful enough. It is very clear that Barbara chooses every day to be happy and find good things to look forward to.

After hearing Barbara talk about her struggle with illness, her sleepless nights,  her grueling bouts of treatment, and her adventures in between, I realized that I'd found a true, real live hero. No, she doesn't play for a major sports team, she doesn't sing at the Grammy's, and she's never published a New York Times Bestseller- but she is a real hero- battling in a fierce competition with cancer, singing her own song along the way, and telling her story of facing life's biggest challenges with strength and determination.

This woman changed me, and for that I am truly grateful.
Thank you, Barbara, wherever you are.