PALM SUNDAY REFLECTION...THEN AND NOW

Today is Palm Sunday. I grew up in a traditional Italian Catholic home, so today was "big stuff". To briefly inform: Palm Sunday is the beginning of Holy Week. Palms are distributed at Mass; the Gospel is so long that it lasts until next year, as so it went. In all seriousness(for a nano second), Holy Week is the most intense and most important week in our Liturgical Year and Easter ranks as the Most Holy of Days. All of that being said...I'm sure Sr. Claudine from St. Paul's RC School is proud...

As a little girl, I would be dressed in an "almost" Easter Outfit for Palm Sunday Mass. If it still fit, last year's Easter Dress was this year's Palm Sunday dress. Palm Sunday dinner was "almost" as important as Easter Dinner. "I'll do Palm Sunday, here; and we'll go to your place for Easter" was the usual banter and planning that could be heard among the adults. Homemade manicotti (pronounced MON-AH-COTTA)or a basically gourmet Italian meal would be on the menu to overeat!

One tradition that is still so vivid to me: You brought your "Godmother" a Palm from Mass. My Godmother was Aunt Nina. She was my father's sister, really named Anna Maria. However, as a little baby, Aunt Anna Maria had way too many syllables...I swear I heard "Aunt Nina" and believe me, so did the entire family after I enlightened them! Well, maybe except her father, Ralph the Barber.

So, after Mass, before Palm Sunday dinner, my father would take me to visit Anut Nina with a Palm. I usually saw Aunt Nina at some time on the Weekends anyway because I would bring Bubbles (her dog) my egg whites in a wax paper sandwich bag. I didn't/don't eat "edges" and Bubbles looked forward to the visit. He did eat anything that didn't eat him first! But, bringing the Palm to Aunt Nina was special, as was she (passed from this life 2 years ago) egg whites be damned.

The flood of Palm Sunday memory swelled and overran my brain, when after Mass, I phoned home (New Jersey) to chit-chat, etc. My family was together (sans my children and three grandchildren...just didn't work out from Ohio). We all agreed to speak later.

So, Aunt Nina, from my heart to yours, here is your Palm, I thought/prayed as I leaned over my sink and nibbled Couscous and jelly beans!