From Metro UK-
So far, five people today have asked if I know that I’ve got dirt on my forehead.
Did I fall on my face in a muddy park? Did I accidentally smear mascara on my forehead? Have I allowed a wandering pen to accidentally draw above my brows?
No. I went to the church opposite the office to be ashed.
A sort of drive-thru for pedestrians, two priests stood outside and rubbed small crosses of palm ash into Christian passersby wishing to observe Ash Wednesday.
And while that’s a pretty standard tradition and one that I’ve participated in my entire life, this year is the first time that I’ve had it done before – and not after – work.
No one seems to have heard of it in this office, or at least seem completely taken aback by my diry appearance.
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