I was at St. Peter’s Square and in the basilica with some guests the evening before the pope died; we had gone there to tour the church and, of course, to pray for him at the tomb of his predecessor, Peter the Fisherman. The crowds were extraordinarily immense, even for Easter time. They kept vigil under the pope’s third-floor window: prayerful, sorrowful-and-joyful-at-the-same-time. There were tears, of course, but also so many expressions of what I can only describe as joyous Easter faith. Plus, there were legions of young people singing to the Pope, chanting, “JP Two — we love you!” loudly, in the hopes that he could hear them if he were still conscious. People were all over the square on their knees, quietly at prayer or praying the rosary in groups in every language you can imagine. Quite an image.
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