S Andrew by the Wardrobe is host to an Indian Orthodox congregation. They cast petals on the ground on their Palm Sunday procession. Seeing them there as I came home yesterday put me in mind of a poem of S Therese of Lisieux, An Unpetalled Rose The text is here.
The path begun with those childish steps is but the beginning of the Way of the Cross, a point driven home by the Palm Sunday petals around the church: for the petals seek, possibly hopelessly, "to soften once more on Calvary your last steps."
The way of the cross which we walk this week is not some falsely deprecating smug humility. It is a way of humiliation and death. But only so can it show the fullness of love, which seeks noting back, no reward for itself. "An unpetalled rose gives itself unaffectedly to be no more."