We lived in Brazil. My husband was going to London on business, and he invited me to join him. We took the opportunity to visit some European countries. At that time my mother was seriously ill. My intention was to visit Rome and see Pope John Paul II. I was raised in the Catholic religion and I wanted to pray close to the Pope, and ask God for my mother.

Arriving at the Vatican, we discovered that it would be impossible to get last-minute tickets to the audience with the Pope. It was winter, and there was no crowd of people in St. Peter’s Square to see him on the balcony.

 The service, with his presence, was being held in an auditorium for an audience of only two thousand people. Invitations were already sold out. I was so close to him yet with no hope of seeing him. The next day we would be traveling to Paris.

 Not knowing what to do, we stood by the entrance gate watching people with tickets enter, when suddenly we saw a priest with a group of teenagers, and we heard them talking about the absence of two students. I almost didn’t believe it, and after talking to the priest, in a few minutes we were already sitting in one of the last rows of a completely packed auditorium. I soon noticed that unfortunately there would not be the slightest possibility of getting close to Pope John Paul II as I wanted. Meanwhile, I asked my husband for a piece of paper, and I wrote: “Brazil, pray for my mother”. That paper, hidden in my hand, I always held, waiting to be able to get close to him and ask him to pray for her. I always heard about the special affection he devoted to Brazilians.

After a few hours, when the ceremony ended, to my surprise, the Pope came down from where he was, and walked down the central aisle of the auditorium, blessing the faithful.

I started to get nervous and worried that he wouldn’t make it to the end of the auditorium, as we were in the last seats. My excitement grew with each step he took. And it was like that, the proportion he got closer to me, the more emotional I got. Unable to contain the tears, I stayed behind the people in front of me, but I continued with my hand outstretched, showing the small note I had written.

This was a very emotional moment for me and, I think, for everyone around me. The Pope had not stopped for a single moment on his way. But, when he got closer to where I was, he stopped, read what I had written, and speaking in Portuguese, asked if I was from Brazil… from São Paulo. I replied that I was from Rio. It was hard to stop crying and answer what he asked me. People moved away so I could get closer to him. At that moment, the Pope placed a cross on my forehead, and speaking in Portuguese, he said: “A special blessing for your family”. I couldn’t hold back the tears, and I cried a lot. It was when, very calmly, the Pope held my head in his hands, leaned against his chest, and let me cry for a few seconds. People held my coat and my arms, seeming to also want to participate in that very special blessing that I was receiving. The moment I pulled away from his chest, he still held my head in his hands, kissed my forehead, and hugged me tenderly. They were really extraordinarily touching and moving moments.

Leaving the auditorium, when we were already on the street, my husband and I met the priest who gave us this great chance, to be able to get as close to Pope John Paul II as I wanted. Thanks again, we told them what had happened and together we took a picture

Returning to Brazil I went to visit my mother. My mother was much better. Her mouth, due to the ischemia she had, was no longer tight, and one of her eyelids, which did not close, was much better. I believe that God heard my prayers in that very special moment when I met Pope John Paul II .

MARIA LUCIA DA COSTA