My mom and I traveled to Spain to visit family a few weeks ago. I don’t have the chance to travel back there often, so it’s a special time when I can go back to my home town and see what has changed and what has not. We went to visit my Nonno who had just moved to an assisted living space outside of Madrid. Without really knowing where we were going, we hopped on the green bus. When we told the bus driver the name of the residence, she had no idea what we were talking about but said she could take us as far as we wanted. We paid for two bus tickets and figured we’d find our way somehow.

There was a man behind us who had overheard where we were going. He came up to us and said that he passed the residence on his way to work every morning and that he could walk us there if we wanted. We gratefully agreed. He chose a seat several people behind us and every once in a while I glanced back to make sure he had not left us.

We looked out the window during the drive and to my surprise I recognized several buildings. There was the grocery store and the bookstore we bought our elementary textbooks and summer reading books. We rolled through one town to the next and at every bus stop I would check to see if our guide was still there. He was.

Thirty minutes into the ride, the man approached our seat and let us know our stop was next. We followed him off the bus and crossed the street. I suddenly realized that we were following a complete stranger and trusting that he would get us where we needed to go. I had a moment of panic. I thought about what the night’s news headlines would be and how I’d dumb I’d feel if I thought about how this could have been a dangerous situation and did nothing about it.

I peeked at his profile every few steps trying to figure out how to make small talk. I don’t remember his name but he was friendly and talkative as we walked and asked each other questions about where we were from and what we were doing in that part of town. He worked at a restaurant two blocks away form where my grandfather was. I had never heard of the restaurant but he could point out the high building it was in from far back so I assumed it was well-known in the area.

We walked by a church building that reminded me of the church my family attended when I was a child. I pointed it out to my mom. The building’s surroundings were a flourishing garden with tall trees and a black metal fence. There was a man in the garden of the church who stood up and waved. The man from the bus waved back and said hello. They talked as if they were old friends just catching up. We hung around for a minute but figured we should leave to let them talk—our destination was just down the street. The man from the bus pointed out the building to make sure we didn’t miss it and wished us well. We waved at the two strangers and continued our walk.

I turned to my mom and said, “I think God just sent him to make sure we didn’t get lost.” She smiled and agreed. I feel encouraged when I think back to that day on the bus. Even far away from home, in another country, in another culture, there is still something beyond ourselves that connects us to people, to strangers, a connection that God uses to take care of His people.