Things turn around

A Palm Sunday crisis

Eight years ago, I was preparing for Holy Week and for Palm Sunday—my favorite Sunday—when our family was overtaken by an unexpected crisis. I have always looked forward to Palm Sunday because of my childhood memories of waving the palms in processions at any number of churches, of adults who could miraculously fold those long palms into a small cross that I kept all year long, and of the pageantry and the choruses of “All Glory, Laud and Honor,” as well as of the giggles that erupt among the children whenever the minister says the word ass. I still think that’s funny.

 

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