For me Palm Sunday marks the beginning of Holy Week. Of course it's actually the last Sunday of Lent. It has a different feel to it than the other Sundays of Lent to it with the palms (very often in our parish we can't get any palms so we use ferns), the blessing of the palms (or ferns) and the readings. This year Sophie and Gemma-Rose decided to get bad colds with the stomach bug. Mum was going to stay home with them but Imogen offered to stay instead. So three members down, our family left for mass. Unusually I was the only of us girls there.
With our palms (ferns actually) we knelt down, waiting for the start of mass. I kept my palm from last year in a drawer but something happened to it. Maybe it disintegrated or perhaps the cats ate it, but now I can't find a trace of it. I like the hymns. They were ones I remembered well. We could have used Imogen in most of them. She sings soprano and the hymns were too high in places for me to sing comfortably. But we muddled along.
Somehow every year I manage to miss being splattered with holy water. Our pew never seems to be in the right place to get splashed. But I'm hopeful that one day I will actually get hit. Holy Week has now started. We just have Holy Thursday, Good Friday and Holy Saturday's masses to go to and Easter will be here. I wonder if my palm will survive the year this time. It'll be interesting to find out.