But what was it that the Son of God was bearing on his shoulders— something dark and heavy and enormously large.
His Cross! Christ too was carrying His Cross, why? oh! why..
So lightly did He come over the snow, the Cross seemed no weight for His shoulders, yet Vasile’s shoulders still remembered the weight they had borne.
The luminous Figure did not pause before the young soldier, but Vasile had a fleeting glimpse of the angelic compassion in his eyes. … Slowly the Holy One passed the spot where Vasile knelt, and going straight up to the circle of sleeping soldiers, he stepped amongst them and Vasile saw—saw with his own eyes how the Son of God cast his Cross upon the cinders and how a glorious flame shot up from them, licking the sides of the Cross till the Cross itself was as a great torch of light!
Christ had brought his own Cross, had brought it to make a fire, so that the country’s brave defenders should not die of cold!