Pilgrim’s Happiness – by Francine Postma

My sixth day of hiking has started grey. There is a chilly wind and it is drizzling. In my
Rain suit, I walk, with rustling trouser legs, on muddy paths, through forests and
fields. I pass farms, mills, country houses and even a castle. Perfunctorily I make
Every now and then a photo, but really I can only think of one thing: coffee. A large,
hot cup of coffee. With whipped milk. Or regular coffee with powdered milk. If necessary, a
bag of instant coffee. As long as it contains caffeine. I didn’t know I was so addicted…

Every now and then I pass through a village and then I eagerly look forward to a tavern, but
The few times I pass a café, it turns out to be closed.

On a street corner, two women are talking, one with a leaf blower and one with a
Large green watering can. I walk up to them and ask, “Do you know if I can have coffee
here somewhere?”
“Gee, no,” says the older of the two. ‘There’s nothing around here’.
The youngest, with the leaf blower, looks at me. She has friendly light blue eyes underneath
A cheerful crochet hat.

“I’d like to make you a cup of coffee,” she says after a short silence.
“Really?” I say surprised. I didn’t expect that.
“Yes, of course,” she says. “Walk with me” and she sets course for a white house.
“Do you live there?” I ask
“No, I’m helping the person who lives there,” she says. ‘But I’m sure he’ll be okay with me having coffee
for you. I’m actually in the mood for coffee myself’.
She opens the fence door and I stroke the light brown dog that comes shuffling through the
garden.

In the kitchen, a lady sits at the table, with snow-white hair and a cozy brown cardigan. “This
hiker is in the mood for coffee,” says the woman in the hat. “Is it okay if I make it for
her?”
“Of course!” says the lady. ‘Be welcome and sit down’. She points to a chair at the
kitchen table.
The sound of a vacuum cleaner can be heard from the back room. “That’s Annie, the help,” says the old man
lady. ‘I’m Let, and that’s my daughter Femke.’

Femke makes coffee and in the meantime Let asks questions. My name, where I’m from,
why I’m doing this walk, why now, at this time of year, why I’m walking alone and
what that’s like. I’ll answer. Then I say, ‘Can I also ask you something? I would like to
Knowing what makes someone wise, in your eyes.’

‘What a nice question’, says Let, with sparkling eyes. ‘I am immediately reminded of a radio interview I recently heard with Joris Luijendijk, about his book ‘the seven ticks’ and the nasty reactions he received to it.
While he only advocates that as a human being you should open up to others. Before
other cultures, but also for the other person around you, and what they have
Experienced. By asking questions, like you are doing now. So that’s my answer: a
Wise man is open to others, goes off the beaten track and is not afraid
for the unknown.‘

Annie comes into the kitchen – small, tawny and strong, red glasses, short brown hair -, armed with
a bucket and a mop. ‘Right on time‘, says Let. “Annie, what do you
think makes someone a wise person?” Annie smiles shyly. Cautiously, she puts the bucket on the ground and says:
“Well, what can I say? People always have such a whole idea of their lives in advance. They
imagine all sorts of things. But in reality, things are completely different. And it’s just
It’s a good thing you don’t know everything in advance’. “You should know that Annie’s daughter last year
has died’, Let’s say.

There is a silence. I search for words, stammer that I feel very sorry for her. Annie nods
me. Then she says: “They always say that’s the worst thing that can happen to you, death
of your child. I now know that this is true. You don’t care anymore when something like that happens. And then
you hear that people are worried about their energy costs. I don’t care how much
I pay. That’s not what it’s all about, is it?’

“So what’s it all about?” I ask. “For real attention,” she says, after a moment’s thought.
‘Real talk, from person to person. Not about small talk. I’d rather be alone.’
‘Talk about wisdom’, Let’s say. ‘And that just falls out of the sky here.’
“But now I want to mop,” says Annie.

Francine Postma

I walked the Walk of Wisdom in January 2023, in seven consecutive days, as a gift to myself for my fiftieth birthday. I hadn’t planned anything in advance. I called every day
with an overnight address on the list of the pilgrim office. That’s how I challenged myself
To be open to the spontaneous and to trust in the happy ending. This way
I really enjoyed traveling. Francine Postma

More about Francine Postma

More about Francine Postma, including her book about the St. Olav’s Path: website.

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