‘So we are going to call the Palm Sunday Play…Palms,’ asked Chet? ‘Yes we have a bunch of Palms that come from near the Kentucky border,’ Neva J. said. ‘Who will portray Christ,’ Jane asked? We have hired a theatre student from Southern Illinois University @ Carbondale to attend the honors, Billy B. answered. ‘I am certain that our fellow students will enjoy our rendition of Palm Sunday,’ Daryl said with a broad smile!

“I have always thought Palm Sunday was a bit sad in that it comes less than a week before Good Friday,’ Chet commented. ‘Yes…but the majesty of Palm Sunday illustrates the coming of the Messiah and how Israel missed the One for whom they had been waiting,’ Jane said. ‘You mean Easter is not all about Peter Rabbit,’ Chet asked? ‘No but he plays a role in the joys of Easter and certainly all living creatures long for Jesus’s influence on Earth,’ Neva J. responded.

The auditorium was packed. The stage had been transformed into old Jerusalem and included a donkey for the theatre student to ride on as he entered the adoring throng casting palm fronds in front of him. ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord,’ they called out. ‘Where is the actor…it is almost time for him to enter stage left,’ Jane said with some worry in her voice.

‘There was a man in a long white robe standing in the wings a few minutes ago…I will ask him if he can fill in for our missing performer,’ said Chet. ‘Why yes…I will be happy to ride the donkey, said the white-robed gentleman with the beard and piercing eyes that seemed to see history.

When the mysterious man entered the stage a hush came upon the assembled audience. He looked lovingly at the audience and tears could be seen coursing down his cheeks. After the performance, the donkey rider stayed and spoke individually with each member of the cast and all who had come to see the production. He seemed to know each of them and called them by name and when their time with him was done…they felt inspired and renewed and had a purpose in their step that they did not walk in with.

‘What was the gentleman’s name,’ asked Billy B.? ‘He told me to call him JC…