Thirteen years ago, my wife of 49 years, Rosemary, and I took a trip to Rome. This was shortly after Pope Francis had been anointed Pope. Since we are both retired now, travel is one of the things we enjoy, although 13 years ago I was still a commissioner, but Rosemary had been retired for a few years. It was a trip long planned, and it turns out that trip had a unique feeling and ending to it.
We ended up staying just off the Via Nationale, the main road in Rome, just about a block at a very nice Best Western hotel. What made it great was that it was close to everything, and it had a gelato shop next door, so every night after dinner, we would go get gelato. We met a lovely Romanian girl there who became friendly with us, and we still communicate to this day! Anyway, I digress.
Every morning, I would get up and wait for Rose to get ready for our day’s adventure, and I would walk to a little café at the corner. One morning, instead of looking right to go to the café, I looked left. Up on the hill above us was a church, Santa Maria Maggiore, I did not know anything about it, but something inside me said “You must go there!” I never gave it another thought. The following two or three mornings were the same, I would hear this voice telling me to go there.
On the 3rd or 4th, I distinctly heard, ”GO THERE”. My wife is Catholic, I am not, but something inside me got me moving! I started the walk up the hill, I don’t know why, but this voice was driving me crazy! When I got to the Church, I was surprised how big it was and how stately it looked. I went inside, and it was a long way to the back. It was like all churches in Rome, very ornate, very old, and very pretty and well-kept.
At the back of the Church was a large arch over the top of a pit about eight feet deep, maybe, with statuary in it and two stairs, one on each side, leading to the bottom. I walked down, and at the back, where the stairs were, was a statue of a monk or pope, praying to this glass enclosure at the other end. In the enclosure, completely sealed from dust and air was a large bowl like chalice I guess, made of some wood and draped in gold and it had a gold Angel on the top of it.
As I looked at it, not having a clue, I noticed people stopping and making the sign of the cross towards it and praying. I went back up the stairs and watched for a moment as more people did the same. There was a young Italian gentleman standing next to me praying the Rosary, and when he got done, I asked if he spoke English. He said he did so, I asked him, “What am I looking at here?” He smiled and said, “In that enclosure are the last remaining pieces of wood from Jesus Christ’s crib!”
I was shocked! He said it had been dated and historical writings had shown that those were the actual manger pieces of the birth of Christ. I stared at it and thought, “Rosemary has GOT to see this!” I hurried down to get her, and although it was a good walk up the hill, and she was having hip problems at the time, I coerced her into going. When we got there, across the street was a little café where she and I had coffee, and then we entered the church.
When I told her the story, she was as shocked and humbled as I was. We were actually seeing something not many outside of Rome had observed, and it gave you a chill knowing what you were in the presence of. Outside of the Church to the left was a small gift shop, and Rose bought a small trinket that looked like a Bible, with Pope Francis’s picture on it. Inside is a Rosary with his picture. She said she wants to be buried with it. I will comply with that request.
Now fast forward to Saturday, April 26th, 2025 at 3:00 in the morning. Rose gets up to watch Pope Francis’s funeral. I get up around 6:15 and go into the family room to see what she is doing. The first words she said to me were “Guess where Pope Francis will be buried?” I said I assumed at St. Peter’s Basilica because that is where they bury them. I was wrong, seven Popes were buried at Santa Maria Maggiore, and Pope Francis will be number eight! I thought that was unique that Rose and I were there when he was anointed Pope, and we visited without knowing that we had seen his final resting place.
Looking back on it, I get this feeling that maybe the good Lord wanted me to walk up that hill, and for us to go there together. I have no other explanation, since I had no idea what it was. Now, I see the connection and am sure a finger of God pushed me to Santa Maria Maggiore. Just something else to talk about at the coffee shop!
