The echo of cheers still hangs in the air, a fading memory from yesterday’s celebration. Palm fronds, once vibrant symbols of hope, now lie scattered on the dusty ground, their green already tinged with brown. We walk beside Jesus, a heavy silence pressing down where excitement crackled just a day ago. The joy of Palm Sunday feels like a dream – a beautiful, fleeting dream that leaves you a little lost when you wake up. The bright Jerusalem sunshine that cast hope on the city walls seems to mock us now. We can still almost hear the cheers of the ...

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