By Dominic Fanelli ’11, ’13 M.Ed.

I was pedaling as fast as I could to keep up with my roommate down Central Park West, frantically searching for a crowd indicating we were getting warmer. Pope Francis had taken the city over and was moving from Our Lady Queen of Angels School, through Central Park, and making his way to Madison Square Garden.

Dangerously weaving through traffic, I was upset with myself that I had not done more to try to see this man. It struck me around 72nd street, trying to catch up with my roommate, that if I were to not see him, all would be well.

My spiritual life is not constrained to a pew on Sundays, but instead I have the opportunity to give and receive grace daily. I teach seventh grade math in Central Harlem. My students are Western African immigrants, African Americans, Dominican Americans. I have the responsibility and honor to shape the impression of the United States for these children every day.

A school is where the values of a country are communicated to young immigrant children. Pope Francis said his most important stop was Our Lady Queen of Angels School because “it is in line with the Church’s mission of serving immigrants, the marginalized and the poor.”

By the time we pedaled to Madison Square Garden he was already inside. We live-streamed the Mass and when it came time for the homily, my roommate translated the Spanish for me.

As the Mass ended we scrambled to see which side of “The Garden” he would exit and hedged our bets on the North East side. We guessed correctly and caught a glimpse of the man. He was in his Fiat waiving to the crowd, continuing to engage the world through his actions and his words.

By Brian Torro ’09 

Pope Francis often speaks of leaving our comfort zones and ministering to the peripheries of our societies. At the parade along the southern ellipse of the White House, I saw him do it. Literally. 

Standing in front of me at the parade was a 5-year-old-girl who had come all the way from Los Angeles to hand Pope Francis a letter advocating for humane treatment for undocumented immigrants—a group that included the girl’s own parents.

Little Sofia Cruz got her wish. As the pope passed by, her father hoisted her over the rail and Pope Francis excitedly motioned for her to come on over. The Pontiff embraced her, and she handed him her letter.

I left feeling fortunate to have a front row seat to this heart-moving encounter between St. Peter’s successor and one of the most vulnerable in our society. But above all, it was a reminder that despite all the earthly power this city yields, real power means being willing to embrace the poor, the marginalized, the vulnerable.