Some stories leave us spellbound. There is something about some stories that no matter how many times we hear them, they manage to catch us up in their wonderful spell. For instance, I'm 40 years old and still get a kick out of that scene in The Wizard of Oz when Dorothy and Toto and the Tin Man and the Scarecrow and the Cowardly Lion emerge from the forest and catch sight of the Emerald City. Then they join arms and begin to skip across the meadow. Or, the beginning of The Sound of Music with Julie Andrews doing a pirouette with her arms outstretched, the mountains in the background, then the music swells and the hills are alive with sound of music… Some scenes make a lasting impression on us.

Palm Sunday has that power. The donkey, the Lord, the crowds waving those palm branches, a sea of thin green flags fluttering in the wind--and then that memorable chorus: "Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!"