A mile or thereabouts out of Omeath on the Carlingford Road there was an open-air shrine popularly known as Calvary: its official name was Mount St. Carmel. There was an altar, and the field was laid out as the Stations of the Cross. At every station there was an image of the Agony, culminating in the Crucifixion. It was a standard trip to make. You could walk, if you had a mind to, or go by horse and jaunting car, a jollier method and pleasant on a sunny day. The jaunting car held four people, not counting the driver, two on either side. While the men were drinking in the public houses up from the jetty, the women and children made the little pilgrimage to Calvary. The Stations of the Cross are a rare devotion now but were common in my day: women, especially, did the stations in the few minutes before Mass. At each of the fourteen stations you recited the appropriate phrase: the first station, Jesus is condemned to death; the second station, Jesus is stripped of ! his garments. The first time I heard the word "afflicted" was at the stations: Jesus meets his afflicted mother. Jesus falls the first time. If a priest were conducting the service, he called out the title of the station - Veronica wipes our Lord's face - and asked the congregation to "consider" some aspect of the event. At the end of the consideration he said: "I love Thee, Jesus, my love above all things. I repent of my whole heart for having offended Thee. Never permit me to separate myself from Thee again. Grant that I may love Thee always, and then do with me what Thou wilt." Was it the Our Father or the Hail Mary that followed, when priest and congregation knelt down? Isn't it odd that I can't remember the detail while I recall easily the ritual that preceded it? -- Denis Donoghue, "Warrenpoint," 1991.