Palm Sunday

The Holy Week Day 1

Palm Sunday

Daniel wasn’t supposed to stop.

He had a list in his pocket and a tight grip on his time. Groceries. Gas. Home before the game started. That was the plan.

But the road into town was blocked.

Not by an accident. Not by construction.

By people.

They lined both sides of the street, holding branches, coats draped over their arms, voices rising in a way that felt strange and familiar at the same time.

Daniel slowed his car, then stopped altogether.

“What is this?” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

A man stepped near his window. Not threatening. Calm.

“He’s coming through.”

“Who is?”

The man didn’t answer right away. He just smiled like he didn’t need to.

Daniel leaned forward, looking down the road.

And then he saw Him.

Not grand. Not what Daniel expected. Just a man riding slowly, people reaching toward Him like they were afraid they’d miss their chance if they didn’t.

There was no announcement. No explanation.

Just a feeling.

Daniel shut off the engine.

For the first time all week, he forgot what he was in a hurry for.