I love Palm Sunday in Saipan. People gather on the steps of the church to have their palms blessed, and then join an informal procession into the church, with the palm branches waving gaily. Some of the palms are plain, fluttering as if they were still attached to the trees they came from.
Some are woven into intricate patterns and designs, like birds or flowers.
Some are looped into heart-shapes or folded into lightning-rod zig-zags.
The ritual helps me envision a man's ride on a donkey through dusty lanes to the cheers of a faithful crowd.