Rarely did Raoul Poulin pray. He walked to the bend in Big Mountain Row and turned the corner, his target an old wooden wayside cross with clover endpoints. He bent a knee on the weathered frame that doubled as a kneeler. This was Raoul’s favorite. Wayside crosses were everywhere in Quebec, offering rest and comfort for the road-weary. Each was unique, some made of wood, even discarded farm equipment, whatever could be hammered or welded into shape.
WAYSIDE CROSSES WERE EVERYWHERE IN QUEBEC
- by Joyce