From the distance, I could see the green hill with something erected on the mound. The site is open to the elements that nothing can shield me from the cold wind. The expansive cloudy sky is threatening that rain is coming. Looking up, I felt the first drop on my cheek.
As I drew nearer to the structure, there were countless number of crosses. Wooden crosses, iron crosses, plastic crosses. Some ordinary, some ornate. There were rosaries, statues, head of a doll, baby soother, Each one tells a story.
I know little of this place. Legends, ghosts, miraculous apparitions. battle ground are some tales told. But I could sense the quiet determination of the Lithuanians rebelling against the rule of Soviet Russia during the earlier century.
The Hill of Crosses is the symbol of being resurrected amidst their pain and suffering. Lithuania won their freedom.
Take up your cross, The crucifix does not signify defeat or failure. It reveals to us the love that overcomes evil and sin. ~ Pope Francis