We usually stayed up all afternoon on Saturday weaving palm branches for Palm Sunday. We will take our time trying to weave uniquely styled palm branches so that our palm branches will stand out the next morning at church. This was one activity our mother will not scold us for engaging in and indeed on most occasions, she will join and teach us new styles. When God finally blessed us with Sunday morning, we would rise or our mother would wake us quite early and we would run into our garden and sometimes into our neighbours’ gardens and pluck the freshest and most beautiful flowers therein and stick them in our palm branches. How joyful we were to see brightly coloured flower petals sticking out from our green palm branches. We would arrive at church feeling proud about our palm branches only to realize that other children had been engaged in similar and sometimes better creativity and weaving.
Palm Sunday is arguably the best Sunday in the life of children regardless of their religion. At church, we would sing and dance and wave our palm branches and palm fronds joyously without a care in the world. The Sunday school on Palm Sunday was also special. Sunday school ended early and we would take the brass bands and trumpets and together with our Sunday school teachers take to the streets of Accra, singing “Loud Hosannas to Our King.” It was such fun.
I reminisced the foregoing experience in church last year and realized that being a child in Ghana on Palm Sunday was the amazing experience any child could ask for. Such celebration and hosanna singing and palm branch weaving are no longer done.
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