|In case you're curious - there I am! I was 7 years old.|
|Saint Michael, Archangel.|
Anyway, the full Church choir, adults and youth, entered in procession singing Jean-Baptiste Faure's 'The Palms'. The Esty pipe organ's sound would swell with each step we took down the aisle; "O'er all the way green palms and blossoms gay (no comment), are strewn this day in festive preparation. When Jesus comes to take our sins away, ev'n now the throng to welcome Him prepare! Join All and sing His name Devine, let ev'ry voice resound with united acclimation, Hosanna! Praise be the Lord! Bless Him who cometh to bring us salvation!" Geez. I can still recall it all. Our church had an all wood interior. Parishioners would join in singing from a balcony as well as the church floor. The sound would reverberate leaving an almost a constant tone hanging in the air. To hear it was to be it, a level of universal consciousness. And may the Force be with you, too.
|Palm Sunday, 1962. Cousin Patricia was 3. I was 11.|