Jesus Christ Lives in Key West- A Palm Sunday Lesson

     Jesus Christ lives in Key West, Florida. Really- I know because I met him there. 

     In 2006, our entire family- all nine of us- drove to Key West for a week’s vacation right after Thanksgiving. We stayed at a property across the street from the beach and the master suite had an ocean view. It was amazing. 

     Since we had the luxury of children old enough to stay by themselves (this is a real treat for us!), Tim and I decided to have a grown-ups’ night. We ordered a movie for the offspring and pizza for their bellies and headed to downtown Key West. We dined at Margaritaville (of course), where Tim ordered the Cheeseburger in Paradise (of course). When his plate arrived, the ketchup was in reach, but Tim had to go looking for…. Yep. His lost shaker of salt. It was two tables over. We looked at each other and laughed.

     After dinner, we took a stroll. We passed a lady who was selling items she had made from palm fronds: hats, mats, stuff like that. She was very nicely dressed and sitting in one of those nice canvas folding chairs you bring to watch your kids play soccer. I admired her wares and we continued walking.

     Ahead and to our tight was an old man. He was white (just so you can draw the picture) and had salt and pepper dreadlocks. Yes. Dreadlocks on a white guy. He sat on a small campstool and wore dirty, ripped jeans and a ratty shirt. From a distance you could tell- he was not clean. He was the kind of person you knew before you got anywhere close to him—he smelled. Badly. The kind of person you don’t make eye contact with as you pass. So I cast my eyes downward as we got close.

     Then I saw it.

     Sitting on the ground in front of him was a glass coke bottle- the smaller kind that we used to get from vending machines…and in it was a rose made from a palm branch!

I fell on my knees in front of him, a sheet spread there showing his woven-palm wares, I looked in those eyes which only moments before I was determined to avoid at all costs, and asked: “How did you make that?”

     He smiled- his eyes were the most amazing shade of blue, like the most beautiful blue sky you could imagine. Before I saw them, I would have guessed that they would be clouded with cataracts, or glassy from medication- or alcohol. But they were crystal clear. And oh, so blue.

     “Would you like me to show you?”

     “Yes! Please!” And so he took me through, step by step. I told him how I liked showing my religious ed students how to make things with the Palm Sunday palms, but I wasn’t very good at it. I had directions for fancy crosses, fish and even a rose, but I could never figure out the rose from the drawings.

     “Are you going to remember how to do this on Palm Sunday?”

     “Yes. I learn best by watching. I’ll remember.” I memorized every movement of his weathered hands, took a mental picture of each step. When he finished, he handed it to me with a smile. I set it down and folded a cross from a palm that was nearby. As I handed it to him I said, “This is the only thing I know how to make without directions in front of me.” 

     We stood up and I gave him a hug and thanked him for sharing how to make the rose. My husband had been standing with a young man (who was dressed very nicely in khakis and a polo) who seemed to be there with the old man. Tim threw a few dollars in a hat that was sitting there.

     Tim and I walked away. We started crossing the street and I felt a tug on my arm. It was the old man. He looked into my soul- that’s the only way I can describe it- and told me, “Always remember- every person you meet, you could be meeting Jesus Christ.” I nodded my head and said, “I promise, I’ll remember.”

     And I always have. 

      The encounter stayed with me. Several weeks later I was with a priest friend and asked him, "Have you ever met someone and then later realize you had met Christ?" He stopped what he was doing, "Tell me what happened."

     The following Palm Sunday, I had everything ready for the children (pre-K through 8). Palms, photocopies of instructions. We talked about Palm Sunday and Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, surrounded by throngs of people hailing him as their King and Savior…the same people who just a few days later would call for his death. And I told them the story of the old man in Key West. How he had shown me how to make the palm roses---and what he had said to me.

    But I was having trouble with the rose. I was getting very frustrated, nearly to the point of tears. I recall saying something like, “I promised him. I promised him I would remember.” I felt as if I would be letting him down if I couldn’t do it. Caleb Good (8^th grade) stood by me and encouraged me-“ You can do it, take your time- you’ll remember.” Eventually, I did- and every year since, there have been as many roses as crosses on Palm Sunday around here. The palm rose the old man made me is on my night stand. Joey is really good at the roses- and makes a neat rose/ cross combination. He's a popular guy on Palm Sunday!

     So, you see? This really is a Palm Sunday story. The lesson is exactly what the old man told me- and every Palm Sunday it is renewed in my heart.  “Always remember- every person you meet, you could be meeting Jesus Christ.” 

     Even in Key West.