And the streets were empty

There was a different kind of parade that went down Main Street this afternoon.

There were no crowds lining the street to watch.

There were no drums.

No trumpets.

No music of any kind.

Cars slowed, looked at the participants, then drove on.

A few people came out onto their porches to watch as the group passed.

There were no flags, whistles or men in uniform leading the parade.

Only a lone man, carrying a rosary, praying.

Behind him 4 young men and a young lady walked solemnly.

One of the young men carried on his shouder an enormous, solid wood cross. It was about 10 feet long, and 4 feet wide. It must have been extremely heavy. It was huge.

As I passed them, I rolled down my window and asked, other than the obvious, why they were walking that day.

The man at the front said it was a retreat group, and they were doing the stations of the cross.

The young man carrying the cross turned and looked at me, and I saw anguish. He was covered in sweat. His face was bright red, his mouth was opened as he panted and he looked exhausted.

I saw the face of Christ today after our 4th of July parade.

And the streets were empty.