One Man, One Prayer

Tiny flames dotted St. Peter’s Square on the evening of Saturday, April 2, 2005 as a crowd of thousands silently prayed. For days, people flooded the piazza awaiting news on the condition of the ailing pope. On Saturday night, the crowd was at its peak, making it difficult to even enter the massive square. People stood mesmerized, eyes glued to the enormous flat screen televisions that were positioned around the square. It was the sudden toll of the bell that shocked the crowd back into reality. With its last stroke the finality of the scene was unveiled; Pope John Paul II had passed.

Earlier that day, the sun-drenched square was filled with people chanting “John Paolo” underneath the windows of his papal apartments, huddling together on the cobblestones in prayer, and rejoicing in song as they waved banners filled with words of hope. As I walked through the crowd, I heard Italian, Spanish, French, German, English; numerous languages were being spoken but the topic was the same… the pope.

The crowd was nearly silent as the final hours of the night rolled in. Families and friends clutched their loved ones awaiting any news. At the first toll of the bell a look of shock swept across the crowd. It seemed as though no one even attempted to take a breath as the ringing continued. Tears streamed the faces of the mourning as the news penetrated. Everyone seemed to be frozen in time. Although there were reportedly 70-thousand people present that night, only the voices of the clergy were heard.

As I gazed out over the piazza, I couldn’t see where the crowd ended and the ground began. It was after midnight and it seemed as though the crowd was only growing. I saw parents holding their small children, young couples hugging each other, nuns clutching their rosaries, people of all ages and races holding hands and praying.

During the numerous times that I visited the Vatican in the past three months, nothing compared to what I experienced last Saturday night. I came to St. Peter’s Square to show my support for the leader of the Catholic faith, which I am a part of, as well as for a man who had an enormous impact on the world as a whole. I left feeling a greater loss than I could’ve imagined; intensified by the look on each face I saw, a look we all shared.

I was lucky enough to be present for one of the Pope’s final Sunday blessings in January. Even then I was overwhelmed as I stood standing in St. Peter’s Square, listening to him give his blessing as the massive crowd cheered. Just last week I attended Easter Sunday Mass at the Vatican and was present as he gave his final blessing to the thousands of people who erupted in applause. There was also a sense of sadness that hung over the crowd as it became apparent that the pope’s health was worsening, foreshadowing the following week’s events.

As I stood in the square, I could not believe how the death of this man had brought so many people together. As a young adult, it is a common perception that the church is out-of-touch with my generation. This weekend proved those allegations false. People of all nations, all ages, and all races shared a common bond in St. Peter’s Square Saturday night. We all mourned the passing of a man who was able to unite nations, even in death.

Nicole Minner
Philadelphia, PA
Student at LaSalle University