Early morning of August 21, 2011. WYD in Madrid. The Cuatro Vientos Airfield, where almost two million young people were preparing to spend the night, appeared surprisingly calm after the sudden storm that almost caused the suspension of the vigil with Benedict XVI. Have you ever seen two million young people, out of their homes, at night and going to sleep? Well, I have, and they say you don't see miracles anymore!
Faced with such calm, I decided to take the opportunity to go and stock up on water, as the next day was expected to be quite hot and, at peak hours, the queues were unbearable. On the way, I thought I spotted one of the girls from the group we were accompanying in the distance, crestfallen. Esther was going through a rough patch. Her parents had become unemployed and she had had to put her studies on hold to work in a hamburger restaurant and help the family make ends meet. To make matters worse, she had just broken up with Juan, the boyfriend we all assumed she would end up marrying.
I followed her with my eyes and saw how, before reaching the food distribution area, she turned to the opposite side, in the direction of another large tent. It left me with the fly behind my ear, but I continued towards my destination where I was entertained for more than an hour when I met by chance some friends whom I had not seen for years.
On my way back to my seat, I bumped into Esther and she looked like a different person. A big smile filled her face, which seemed to glow.
-Girl, what are you doing? Where did you come from so happy? -I asked her.
-Nothing," she smiled, "to see my boyfriend.
-Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't think so....
-No, no," he reassured me, "I'm not back with Juan. This one is better. If you want to meet him, he's over there, in that tent. Go on, go and see him! -he encouraged me as he walked away.
Initially stunned by the answer, I decided to go and satisfy my curiosity about that mysterious tent. When I arrived, the spectacle was truly unique. Hundreds of young people in total silence, kneeling, were adoring the Blessed Sacrament exposed in a precious monstrance.
Impressed, I also fell to my knees and began to give thanks for the immense gift that had just been given to me. I thanked God for Esther, for those young people who were evangelizing me with their faith, for having wanted to stay among us in such a simple way, hidden from the eyes of the world.
This Sunday, at the parish, we were told that there would be no Corpus Christi procession through the streets this year either. While the parish priest was giving explanations, my eyes immediately went to two pews ahead. There was Esther with Juan, who is now her husband, and their two-year-old daughter in her arms. She managed to finish her degree, get married and now accompanies a group of young people from the parish.
Since that WYD, whenever I go through a storm in my life I remember Esther's "go and see", and I look for the nearest tabernacle, to kneel again before "the bridegroom" who, although this year does not go out to look for us, is always there, in the tent farthest from the eyes of the majority.
Journalist. Graduate in Communication Sciences and Bachelor in Religious Sciences. He works in the Diocesan Delegation of Media in Malaga. His numerous "threads" on Twitter about faith and daily life have a great popularity.
