The Cross of the indigent and of vagabonds, the sweet cross of the old country paths, the welcoming Cross of the poor, the crippled, of the bleeding feet and weeping hearts, of those who have been have bitten by the serpent in the desert; and who are healed of their wounds by gazing up her, the Cross of affliction and Glory!

Léon (1846-1917) and Jeanne Bloy (1859-1928)
Pilgrims of the absolute

“The scene took place in the department of corrections. They were about to condemn a worker for theft, and though defending himself as well as he could, he was intimidated by all the judiciary procedures and was stuttering. Finally, the bailiff intervened: “There is a woman here who insists on speaking with you, Sir.” “What does she want?” “She says that she knows something.” A simple woman was introduced into the room. She was pale, weeping, and you could barely hear what she was saying. Why was she so upset? She refused to give her name or profession though they tried to drag out of her… and now what has she to say? “What I have to say is that the man there is innocent,” she says, pointing to the accused. “How do you know?” “It’s someone else who did the stealing.” “Someone else? Who, someone else? Do you know this person?” “I can’t give his name.” “Well you must, otherwise no one is going to believe you.” At this injunction, she bursts into sobs and mumbles: “He told me everything. It’s my son.” …This “miserable, decrepit” woman had maternal love equal to that of Blanche de Castille, queen of France, who preferred to see her son dead rather than guilty of a crime. Such are the selfless good women, the faithful good women who make up the heart of France.”

Henry Bordeaux (1870-1963)
Lawyer and novelist