
There’s something deeply humbling about preparing to walk the Camino.
You carry everything you need on your back.
You learn to go slowly.
You become deeply aware of your limits—how much water you need, how far you can walk, how much weight you can carry before your shoulders start to ache.
And in all that—I’ve discovered something beautiful:
the gift of being small.
Letting Go of “Big”
We live in a world that celebrates big things: big dreams, big voices, big plans.
But pilgrimage invites a different way.
It invites us to be small in the most faithful sense of the word.
To be small like a bird on the wind.
To be small like a mustard seed, like a servant kneeling to wash feet, like the quiet ones Jesus called “blessed.”
On the Camino, small doesn’t mean insignificant.
It means right-sized.
It means rooted.
It means dependent — not on ego, but on grace.

Why Small Is Holy
When I feel small, I stop trying to control everything.
I let the rhythm of walking set the pace.
I start noticing the things I usually rush past:
a butterfly on the path, the sound of my breath, the kindness of someone offering directions.
And in those small things, I meet the presence of God.
The God who doesn’t demand strength, but offers rest.
The God who isn’t impressed by credentials, but who lifts up the lowly.
The God who chooses to walk with us—not because we are mighty, but because we are His.
The Invitation
As I prepare to walk this long, ancient road, I want to carry this prayer in my heart:
Let me be small enough to receive.
Small enough to depend.
Small enough to follow.
Because in being small, I find room for God to be big.

A Pilgrim’s Prayer for the Gift of Being Small
Holy and gracious God,
As I prepare to walk this road,
teach me the wisdom of being small.
Let me lay down what I do not need —
the weight of pride,
the burden of proving,
the fear of not being enough.
Let me walk with open hands,
soft steps,
and a heart ready to trust.
Let me see what only the humble can see —
grace in the ordinary,
mercy in the moment,
and You, always walking beside me.
Make me small, Lord —
and in that smallness, make space for joy.
Amen.
Thank you for walking this quiet road with me.
Buen Camino,
Fr. Don+