Roland Paul Hebert is 87 years old. He lives a quiet life in northeast Iberia Parish in a modest home decorated with family pictures of his 13 children, 40 grandchildren and 22 great-grandchildren, “With two on the way,” beams Hebert.  

“Most people call him Sam,” daughter-in-law Tina Hebert (married to son Kevin Hebert) said.  

Sam is described by his family as resilient and perseverant, a man of faith. He’s retired from a long career with CLECO. His beloved wife and mother of his children, Wilda, passed away shortly before hurricane Rita in 2005. The hurricane flooded his home near Avery Island and forced him to relocate. It was then he decided to take up woodwork. At first, he made birdhouses, but then, fate and faith intervened. “Father Buddy Breaux called me one day. He said he was tearing down the St. John Refinery in St. Martinville, and could I help him, would I like some good cypress wood,” Hebert said. “So, I got a big haul of cypress, and I started making crosses — crucifixes, really.” 

Hebert originally purchased figures of Christ from the Rosary House in New Iberia. He paints them and affixes them onto the crosses he makes. There are two models he uses, either Christ on the cross, or the resurrected Christ. While many of his crucifixes are made of cypress, Hebert has experimented with cedar and other kinds of wood as well.  

He does most of his work in the barn on his property, which has a large 6-foot cross on its pitched roof, an ongoing project of Hebert’s. “It has a light on it, so you can see it at night. I want to put a red light on it for the holiday season,” he says. 

Hebert makes crosses of all sizes; some large enough to mount on buildings, others for hanging in a home as devout decoration. They are all unique, and what makes them so special, is that Hebert gives them all away. “I’ve given away 205 so far. I have a log book I keep with the names and the numbers of the crosses.” 

And who gets these crosses? “I’ve given them to anyone who has asked: all my children, of course, for special occasions: birthdays, people getting married, or people who have just lost someone. Friends call and ask for crosses for themselves, or someone they know who is grieving. I gave one to the Azalea Village assisted living, and I want to give one to Garden View.” 

When asked about how he decides to give someone a cross, Hebert shrugged modestly and said,” I just know when someone needs a cross, and I give them one.” Hebert stresses that he doesn’t have his crosses blessed before giving them away. “It’s up to them to have it blessed, you never know a person’s intentions,” he said. 

Tina Hebert amplifies this unassuming man’s statements about ‘just knowing when someone needs’ a crucifix. “Pop, you don’t know when you’ve really saved someone with your gift. Your crucifix may be just the thing they needed to keep going, or turn their life around, restore their faith,’ she said. 

Rest assured, these gifts of faith make a lasting impression. Gratitude and Happy Easter, from cross number 206.