Touched by His Holiness

As the world contemplates on the life, charism and death of Pope John Paul II, many of us stop to think about what his life and works personally meant to us. He was no doubt a great man, and many years from now people will still be talking about how his exemplary life moved and touched people's hearts around the world.

I was fifteen and a budding high school journalist, when my grandfather broke the news: Pope John Paul I, who was recently elected as successor to the late Pope Paul VI, had died after only 34 days in office. From that moment on, I became an avid observer of the events unfolding at the Vatican.

It fascinated me when Karol Wojtyla was eventually elected Pope, the first non-Italian chosen for this office in 455 years. What’s more, he was from Poland, a Communist country. Back then I wondered at the significance of his election in the light of the Cold War, and the ever-present spectre of a nuclear holocaust. Today, we know he was a key figure in the events that toppled down the Communist regimes in Eastern Europe.

What was it about John Paul II’s presence that drew huge, adoring crowds everywhere he went? Unforgettable images of him - kissing the ground of the countries he visited, or kissing the babies in the crowd, reaching his hands out to the young people of the world - come to mind. He was a beacon of hope and the bearer of Christ’s good news, yet there was something appealingly human about him that made me want to follow him.

And follow him I did, by reading everything I could about him. Unknowingly, my own quest for spiritual enlightenment also began. At this time I had started questioning the teachings of my faith, and was a fair target for people of other religious persuasions, who wanted me to join them. Despite that, I held fast to my beliefs, and I turned to the Pope for inspiration in my search for answers.

I felt so downhearted that I was unable to see him in person when he visited the Philippines in 1981. And so I resolved then and there, that if ever I was able to visit Europe one day, I would like to have an audience with him.

And so it came to pass that I’d have my own personal memories of the Pope. I was literally touched by him. It was on a Holy Wednesday in 1994. I received a scholarship to study in Austria, and during the Easter break from school I took a bus tour of Florence, Rome and Assisi with a group from Salzburg. We arrived in Rome on Tuesday afternoon, and although it was not on the itinerary, our guide told us that we were able to get places at St. Peter's for an audience with the Pope the next morning.

As we went into the Basilica next morning with many other tourists and pilgrims, you could feel the excitement in the air. It was the first time I'd been inside St. Peter's, and I was awed by the architecture, the religious art and the history of the place. But my next concern was: where was the Pope coming from? Am I sitting where I could see him? Or would I just get crushed in the crowd and miss seeing him? I noticed that there were barriers around where we were seating.

What a thrill it was to find out that we were placed near a door where he came through! And all at once, a hush fell on the crowd. As I observed him shaking hands with the people, I could feel that there was something powerful about John Paul's presence. And you knew it, without thinking, that this was a very holy man.

Finally, he was shaking hands with my neighbor. And finally, I was able to get to the front of the barrier, an Asian girl squeezed in between some European teenagers. Finally, he saw me, and in those few seconds, he really noticed me. He smiled and touched my cheek with his fingers, and said something to me in Italian. Then I bent down to kiss his ring, and then - he was gone. I just regret that I didn't understand what he said.

I do not know now how I found these pictures - they were taken by official Vatican photographers, who were the only ones allowed to take pictures beyond the barrier. Maybe our guide told us, or maybe the photographers themselves passed on their business cards, I really don't know. But the next day, before we drove on to Assisi, I sought out the address of the photographer, who was located on a side street near the Sistine Chapel. I thought I only had to get the photos and pay for it, but it wasn't that simple. Instead, I had to order the photos and pay the full price, and they would send it by post to Salzburg. I was desperate to get my photo with the Pope that I'd do anything, but at that point I wondered if I had just made an expensive mistake.

But it turned out to be an honest deal, and about a week later I got the photos, in an envelope covered with rare Vatican stamps. I treasure these pictures, but not so much as I treasure those brief moments with the Pope. I will miss him now that he's gone, but I also rejoice that he's touched so many millions of people when he was among us. I've dug these up from my files last night, and now I'd like to share them with you. God bless Pope John Paul II.