Pope Francis will always hold a deep significance for my family, not just because we were present in St. Peter’s Square to hear “Habemus papam“ on the rainy night of his election but because, two-and-a-half weeks later, during his tour of the square after Easter Mass, Pope Francis picked up and embraced my then 8-year-old son, Dominic, who has severe cerebral palsy.
Images of this moment went viral immediately. We got excited messages from friends back in the U.S. almost instantaneously, telling us they had seen pictures of the Holy Father and our son. These images helped define and set the tone for a pontificate still in its inaugural days. In the week that followed, my wife and I did countless interviews, including on Fox News and CNN, as the world was eager to ponder what this encounter told us about the new pope.
Neither my wife nor I could have dreamed up such a climax to the whirlwind of events that began about a month and a half earlier, when, on the feast of Our Lady of Lourdes, Pope Benedict shocked the Church and the world with his announcement that he intended to abdicate the office of the papacy. Such a thing hadn’t happened in over 700 years, and the news reverberated around Rome like a shock wave.
We were present in St. Peter’s Square on Feb. 28, the day Benedict’s resignation took effect. I remember nearly every detail: The square was sparsely populated, and there was an uneasy silence in the crowd as we watched the helicopter carrying the pope depart the Vatican. Those of us in the square were left pondering the significance of what we had just witnessed, unsure how to feel and uncertain what this meant for the Church and for the papacy. The crowd slowly dissipated, murmuring in low voices.
Habemus papam!
A mix of apprehension and excitement marked the two-week leadup to the conclave, which opened March 12. The next evening, just as my family was sitting down for dinner, we received word that white smoke had emerged from the Sistine Chapel. Though my wife’s parents had arrived from the U.S. that morning and were jetlagged from their flight, we promptly left dinner sitting on the table and headed straight to the metro. (My father-in-law, who is not Catholic and who had already changed into comfortable clothing, asked if we could stay and watch the announcement on TV! Poor fellow; he had little choice in the matter.)
As we exited the metro, we were greeted by throngs of excited people scurrying up the stairs in the direction of St. Peter’s. On the street it was a mad dash to St. Peter’s, like a human “running of the bulls.” I still recall the electricity in the air, as well as the flapping veils of the young religious sisters who were jockeying and weaving with the speed and agility of professional footballers.
By the time we arrived at the packed square, the Roman Carabinieri stood blocking the entrance and directing the flow of pedestrian traffic down toward the Via della Conciliazione. Upon seeing our son Dominic in his wheelchair, however, they immediately signaled for all of us to enter with him. And so it was that we found ourselves standing in St. Peter’s Square for this historic occasion, ready to learn the identity of the newly elected pontiff. After a half-hour wait, the main event commenced, and Pope Francis was promptly introduced to the world. A joyful crowd left the square shortly after, full of anticipation about what our new papa would bring the Church. We returned to our apartment to enjoy a late — and cold — dinner.
‘It’s Dominic!’
Six days later, on the morning of March 19, the solemnity of St. Joseph, Pope Francis celebrated his pontificate’s inaugural Mass outside in St. Peter’s Square. It was a bright day with a fresh chill in the air, and we basked in the celebratory feel of the event. Later in the day I saw online that Pope Francis had toured the square before the Mass and had stopped to embrace an adult with special needs. Had we arrived in time for the pre-Mass tour, I thought, it might have been Dominic that the pope embraced. He’d be famous now. Ah well, we missed our chance!
Five days later was Palm Sunday, the beginning of Holy Week. We attended Palm Sunday Mass, which was again celebrated in St. Peter’s Square, as well as Holy Thursday Mass inside St. Peter’s Basilica. For the Easter Vigil, if you want to be sure of a good seat — or any seat — inside St. Peter’s, you must stand in line beginning in the midafternoon, a line that stretches throughout the square. This I did with my two older children, 16 and 12 at the time, despite a steady rain that lasted the entire day. When it was time to enter, the skies opened and, as the line scrunched together, umbrellas tilted, dousing everyone with water. It was comical, once inside and seated in the pews, to see everyone dripping wet! But the Mass was beautiful all the same.
We decided to attend Easter Sunday Mass in St. Peter’s Square as an entire family the next morning. Though the sun had returned, my two older children were less than enthused about heading back to St. Peter’s after their late night. We arrived late, and since Vatican policy allows only one companion for each disabled person in the special section for those with disabilities, my wife went to sit with Dominic while I sat near the back of the square with our four other children.
At the end of Mass, Pope Francis began his tour of the square. After some minutes, my 12-year-old son, looking at the jumbotron, blurted out, “It’s Dominic!” I turned to the jumbotron and beheld my son being embraced by Pope Francis.
My wife later informed me that an usher had taken notice of Dominic during the Mass and had been determined to have him meet the pope; when Mass ended, the usher situated my wife and son on the route that the popemobile would take, and though Pope Francis was turned aside on a first pass, he indeed saw and reached for our son on a second pass.
We had no idea if the encounter had been caught on film until we returned to our apartment and its Wi-Fi connection, and were greeted with numerous notifications informing us that Pope Francis’ embrace of Dominic had gone viral. We will never forget this special moment, and now, looking back over Francis’ 12-year pontificate, we can see how this embrace sums up its signature themes: the need for the Church to go out to the margins and to resist a “throwaway culture,” the preferential option for the poor and the Church as a “field hospital.”
