"What we experienced today in Covadonga wasn't just a pilgrimage. It was an encounter between cultures, a prayer made a journey. We left early, our hearts full of intentions, memories, and names."

On July 15, as part of the Jubilee of Hope, the Secretariat for Migration and Mobility of the Archdiocese of Oviedo organized a pilgrimage to Covadonga.

Some members of the local Focolare community were also present. Lorena Baudry, one of them, describes the day:

The first stop was in Cangas de Onís, where we met with the Secretariat from Gijón. Together we said a simple prayer. With the murmur of the river in the background and crossing bridges, we began our walk. We were represented from more than fifteen countries: faces with diverse features, difficult stories, open wounds... but all with one thing in common: faith and a desire to be thankful.

The journey was a gift. Three hours of walking surrounded by greenery, by firm mountains. Like the hope of someone leaving their homeland behind. The sky held back the rain. We contemplated, we sang, we walked. And also, in silence, some of us cried. Because walking also lets go of the soul.

We arrived in Covadonga, tired and with our hearts heavy. During the Eucharist, Father Jesús Sanz (Archbishop of Oviedo) said that "Just as many Spaniards took the faith abroad, today you bring it back to us and rejuvenate our Church."And it was true. In every song, in every embrace, in every different accent, something was renewed.

Then we went to the Santina, the name given to the Virgin of Covadonga here in Asturias. We offered her our flags, our families, our dreams, our wounds. We sang songs prepared with love. Each one asked the Virgin to Santina from their own country. Others closed their eyes in silence. But we all felt something profound: belonging, comfort, and meaning.

We closed the day by sharing a meal. What each person brought multiplied. One family's rice was mixed with another's bread, with a legume salad, with fruit... And the miracle was that: the simple things shared became abundant.

Today we haven't just walked to Covadonga. We've walked into each other's hearts. I, personally, am moved. I've seen faith in its purest form: not in cathedrals, but in mothers praying for their children, in men who want to start over, in young people who don't lose hope..

This pilgrimage has been a mirror of what we are when we believe together: faith and hope multiply.