Joyous Palm Sunday greetings

y first car was a lime colored, 1979 Dodge Colt hatchback, with Cashmere plaid interior and a white vinyl top. Despite the fact you periodically had to scrape the windows from the inside while driving, “Kermie” was the best car ever. And I cared for him like no other.

Washings were all day events, complete with threading rags through the vents to make them shine.

One day, while heading out to give Kermie a good clean, I determined to hang a cross from the rear view mirror. You see, my brother had purchased a little marble cross, and presented it to me as a gift. We’d had a hard go of it; and, while young, he understood that sometimes you just need a reminder that someone understands, that someone cares.

The minute I received the gift I knew right where it would be displayed–I needed only a fanciful ribbon with which to hang it.

But days turned to weeks, weeks, months and still no ribbon. So that day, bucket full of suds in one hand, rags in the other, I said a silent prayer, Lord, while I would love to have a ribbon with which to hang my cross, string will have to do. Then I went on my way.

I was nearly finished cleaning the dash when something caught my eye. It was down in the vents; vents I had cleaned many a time before. After some finagling I managed to pull it through . . . a perfect, silken blue ribbon. The perfect length to hang my cross.

That ribbon has long since disintegrated. Yet I can’t help think of it, this time of year especially. It’s the perfect reminder that sometimes life gets dark and ugly. Sometimes we haven’t even the words to utter aloud. But there’s someone who knows. He’s been there. And sometimes–when we least expect it, when we’re least deserving–He’ll remind us, someone does care. We need only pay attention; we need only accept His gift.

Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, Hosanna! Hosanna! Hosanna!