Palm Sunday. I love to get to know my daughter by how she treats her Palm Sunday stick, her own life tree that she carries during the procession. This year she carried her stick not holding on to the bottom but holding it at the top, making it less heavy to carry this way. I had already used a lighter stick, cut the ribbons shorter and taken some of the dried fruit of to make it less heavy. But she found her own way to deal with this life challenge. I laughed when I noticed the boxwood twig in the breadrooster's bottom had been accompanied by a feather she had found along her way walking in the procession. She had stuck it in there, making it her own. When we picked her up from school I heard her teacher tell her: now that the parents arrived, you are allowed to eat your roosterbun. I know from last year she wants to sink her teeth in it the moment she gets her hands on it. While others savour it and watch their beautifully decorated stick till the bun is too hard to eat, she will be busy eating her breadrooster during all of the procession if you let her. I love watching her with her colorful life tree, ribbons waving. Bearing the fruit of last year. Carrying ever green twigs and eggs that symbolize new life. And the rooster on top telling everyone of the new day that has come. It is so like her to want to eagerly devour that day.