When I didn't see the Pope but I heard the commotion

I have a story to tell about The Pope John Paul II. In the Winter of 1989 my partner, Mina, and I and two Lesbian friends of ours visited Rome. Our two friends convinced Mina and me, both of us secular Jews, to visit the Vatican. We were duly impressed and glad we went, although much overwhelmed by the size of the place and the various bejeweled possessions and sacred objects contained inside the Vatican museum. After the visit to the main public rooms in the Vatican and the open spaces outside, we returned to our small hotel which was located across from the Pantheon, a sacred temple that is now a Church where many famous personages are buried in above ground sculpturally decorated sarcophagi.

There is also an open place below the Oculus of the Dome, the open air hole in the dome, in the Pantheon where a special New Year's Eve musical service was to take place. That evening we decided to go to hear the choir singing at the Pantheon urged on by one of our friends, who was raised Catholic. Before we left the hotel, one of the guests who mistook me for a "sister" Catholic, I guess I look Italian, and who was visiting Rome from the Boston area told me about a particular Church I should visit which she thought was quite special. When I told her I was going to a musical service at the Pantheon, she became quite excited as it further confirmed that we were on the same mission in Rome. I didn't have the heart to enlighten her to who or what I was so I left it at that.

We went to the Service at the Pantheon, a former Roman Temple. Three quarters of the way through the musical service, which included a choir singing in their beautiful monotone voices and also included several archbishops carrying scepters and spreading incense, we heard a commotion outside. My first impulse was to get up and go outside to look as a number of others did but I didn't want to disrupt the service in any way especially since I am a nonbeliever so I stayed in my seat. Then the noise became louder and we heard cries of Il Papa! Il Papa! Finally the service was over. We ran outside and saw the Pope Mobile across the Square moving away from us into the distance. He had just been outside the doors of Pantheon and the crowd was now dispersing.

I really could not make the Pope's figure out from where we stood. We had missed the Pope. When I got back to the hotel, the woman who thought I was a "sister" Catholic came up to me excitedly. Did you see the Pope? He was here. Did you see him? Yes, I said. I saw him. And we jumped up and down together. The Boston woman said "He looked strong. He is tall." Yes, I said. He is large and tall, Big. I will never forget the time I missed seeing the Pope but heard all the commotion. And think of it, a nice Jewish girl like me.