Every night the streets of Salamanca are washed clean. If you missed seeing the trucks and hoses, you could believe the city wept every night. Why is it weeping? There are so many stories in a place this old. There is hate and tragedy as well as laughter and peace. Perhaps it is crying in joy as much as sorrow some nights. But it must be hard to have so much of oneself forgotten. What is it like to see the years pass and things change and have people remain much the same in so many ways? Is it happy to see people’s lives? To be an observer of the chaos and beauty of the world? Stepping forward to share your life with another person is hard and warrants tears. Entering their pain and happiness is no easy task. But it is so worth it at the end you could cry for the experience of it all and the new burdens you share with grace and joy. I don’t know why Salamanca is crying. But her people are something I want to share my life with, despite the weeping and because of the laughter and in the midst of it all.