wind and palms

Winnipeg is one windy city today {and yesterday and the day before}.

When I was little the church I attended celebrated Palm Sunday, naturally. The weeks leading up to this lovely day were spent learning and rehearsing special Palm Sunday melodies that flitted and floated from the childrens room to the santuary on the day we commemorate Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem town riding on a donkey. Our hands gripped palm branches as we paraded the greens across the church and down the aisles. We serenaded our mothers, fathers, omas and friends. I remember wearing pale floral dresses, the spring sun blinding my eyes and smiles abounding from every direction. I cherish the memory of this ritual.

In two weeks less a day I will be among swaying palm branches in their natural habitat. I will be wearing pale floral dresses and be humming hosanna, hosanna, hosanna in the highest and be brought right back to my younger years.


V. xo