Spain, I love you.

Spain.

I consider it an honor to have lived in Spain and I feel a kinship with its land and people.  It's been twenty years since I have stepped on Spanish soil yet the memory not only lingers but resides, ingrained, in my mind.  There are moments that are as real today as though they had just occurred.  I hear the echo and the sound of the streets.  I smell the scents of bakeries, smoke-filled subways, and tree-lined parks.  I relish in the legacy of each passing step where one building reflects centuries old history and the next displays the promise of progress.

I miss the morning trip to the panadería to purchase a fresh "barra de pan" or bar of bread.  The Spanish bar of bread has a crunchier crust and is somewhat more narrow that its French companion. The fullness of its flavor alone, dipped in chocolate or later as a bocadillo with ham and cheese; that single baguette offers added meaning to the bread of life.

Friends tell me that the siesta is not nearly as universally practiced as when I lived there.  Too many multinational corporations and the push for profits keep workers on the job during the siesta.  Oh how I miss the chance to rest and relax in the middle of the day.  I have never had Persian blinds like those I had in Spain.  They were always wooden and they blocked out every ray of light.  It would be the very middle of the day and I could quickly find myself in quiet and darkened slumber.  Two hours later the stresses of the day relieved and I found myself refreshed and ready for a few more hours.

How I miss the simplicity of the paseo.  Those strolls through the city invariably found my feet wandering through historic plazas and peaceful parks.  Retiro Park in central Madrid provides a break in the concrete jungle.  The little pond, the statues, and the paths amongst the trees give every visitor their own slice of heaven right here on earth.  Oases dot the towns and cities all throughout Spain.

The goodness of Spain.  Oh how I love the passion and the heart of her people. You bring me pleasure as I listen to you argue amongst yourselves.  I am just not quite Spanish enough to choose a side between the Catalan, Basque (Euskadi), Galician, and other factions.  I love you all.  All whose blood flows from that portion of the Iberian peninsula owns a part of my soul.

I lived with you.  I have tried to take all that is good from you and blend it with the good I already had.  I served you every way I could.  I helped in hospitals and orphanages.  I visited students in schools and strangers in jails.  I shared a message of peace and love with all who would hear.  But all that I did pales with what you did for me.

Spain, you gave me you.

Gracias.