In my hometown, the processions of Holy Week are ingrained in townspeople’s DNA.
On Palm Sunday the wooden statue of Jesus is carried on a litter in procession by the brethren who belong to the Confraternity of Passion, from the Church of San Leonardo to the cathedral.
The town band and the townspeople follow the statue. While I was in the procession I had a look at those around me. Some women who had been attractive one time, now had their faces seamed with wrinkles. An old friend of mine whom I had not seen for a long time came close to me and we walked together for a little while. He told me that he had undergone two difficult surgical operations, but now he was in a good condition. I also saw a woman who had a bad reputation. Although she was a doctor, she was considered by everybody…
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