Better late than never, I suppose! I always enjoy attending a Good Friday procession, wherever I am in the world. Last year, I was in Italy; this year in little Italy. I took a heap of pics, but I will only share three today.
I love the different footwear here — especially socks-with-sandals guy and high-heeled lady. Not sure they’re really dressed as sheep-herders may have been in days of yore, but what the heck.
I get a kick out of these young ones holding up the sign. I rarely extol the multi-cult aspects of Toronto, because I find such carrying on tiresome, but this image is indeed sweet.
And this, because I have just always loved the story of Saint Veronica.
I took this picture on Palm Sunday in Paris, a short walk from our little (borrowed) apartment. We had gone for a walk that day and noticed people carrying greenery everywhere — very lovely, though clearly, someone discarded or dropped theirs on the rain-soaked cobblestone. When I was a kid, Palm Sunday was something that made me envy my Catholic classmates. To me, it seemed very meaningful, remembering the crowds waving branches at Jesus when he entered Jerusalem.
We were reminded, by the way, that Notre Dame is an operating church, as we saw crowds even larger than usual leaving it that day, and leaving it with (not sure what kind of) leaves in their hands. I imagine that today, as well, it is packed to the rafters with tourists of all faiths, now all able to say they attended Easter Mass in such a famous place (though between you and me, I prefer Italian churches. Far more beautiful, both outside and inside).
Happy Easter and/or Passover, dear readers.