In the square, which was the perfect setting, you could see hundreds of people. The arches that composed him and the living dwellings he had above gave him the form of military barracks, numbered all, and of the same balcony.

In the middle, two young people played some wooden boards and with their sound they achieved a special magic. When they heard them, the fog, the forest and even loneliness encouraged their listeners.

Such a peculiar percussion kept the crowd silent despite the rain.

After the rhythmic performance of the young people was over, a man with a large txapela took the floor. He was a pretty young boy, about fifty years old, lean and severe, and it was obvious that he was very nervous.

After the man who expressed his gratitude, there was a great banner in which he said: “Welcome home.”

In his words, he referred to the past 20 years, in several prisons he has been convicted of. She recalled the suffering of her family and friends and thanked her support and affection.

With tears in his eyes, and very excited, he ended a short session encouraging women and men who are in distant jails to continue working until they “come home.”

“Aita, aita!”, only one child’s cry in the front row broke the silence before the act ended with applause.

Once the act was over, the plaza recovered its image, one person remained alone, in the center, immobile. Under the black umbrella, a tall, thin man, quite mature, without failing to look at the banner.

He seemed to reflect on what he had experienced a few minutes earlier. He had his reasons, because for him the action was not finished, but, on the contrary, he began his real action from that moving moment.

He knew that the honored man would suffer in solitude, even if he was now “at home.” I had to say goodbye to many strangers who for twenty years saw very far, but now the time had come.

It was true that I had a new and longed present, but what about its future? What to do, where to go? Before being arrested, I had worked as an engineer, but now what, where did I work, knew that the company had long since disappeared? A lot of hard questions to answer. Where do you start working at fifty years old, where?

The man who remained stationary in the plaza had to respond to this situation forty years earlier and in the same place. However, there was a notable difference between the two situations experienced. The former prison arrived at his house with almost white hair, and he faced the situation at twenty-three years.

The honoured man suffered for twenty years the hardness of the prisons, instead, far from his relatives, and was forced to serve in the Spanish Navy for two years.

Therefore, what he had lived in the tribute led him to his own experience. How many times did I remember that night at the Bathrooms Sales Station? I was coming from Galicia on the last train, sailor's dress.

Sailor returning to his land after a long period of military life.