Quiet Voices, Loud Legacy: Honoring Pope Francis in Rome

 

Image: credited to BBC

Two days after the papal seat at the Vatican became vacant, a group of nuns dressed in grey quietly gathered in St. Peter’s Square. They began to sing Ave Maria, softly at first, then louder as others nearby joined in. As they slowly moved forward in the queue to view Pope Francis lying in state, their voices carried across the square, faces turned toward St. Peter’s Basilica, white veils glowing under wide sun hats.

The scene captured the emotion of a week when Rome felt once again like the center of the Catholic world. There was mourning, yes—but also a calm acceptance. Pope Francis had lived to 88 and passed peacefully. People were comforted by the thought that he didn’t suffer. This isn’t a time for celebration; that will come after the funeral. For now, the mood is one of quiet reflection.

Elena, a Romanian woman in her 50s, noticed a contemplative air in the city. "It feels different," she said, noting that even non-religious people seemed moved by the Pope’s passing. Her friend Lina, a tobacconist near the Vatican, said the week wasn’t tragic or festive—just thoughtful. “People are using this time to reflect, and we really need that.”

Along the main route the Pope’s coffin will take—Via della Conciliazione—people strolled slowly, soaking in the moment. Though the basilica where he will be buried is only 4km away, the final journey will take about two hours, with the coffin traveling at walking pace so mourners can say goodbye.

The area has grown busier, and security has ramped up. Soldiers and police are everywhere—some holding binoculars, others armed with anti-drone gear. One soldier cryptically hinted at its capabilities with a simple, “Maybe, among other things.”

Despite the heavy security, the atmosphere felt safe and peaceful. Caislyn, a 21-year-old American student sketching the Vatican dome, described it as “bittersweet.” She called the funeral a “celebration of life” and admired Francis for his dedication to the poor.

Others shared similar sentiments. Elena, a volunteer for the homeless, said she felt connected to the Pope because he, too, came from poverty. “He never forgot where he came from,” she said, referencing his sister’s stories of their difficult childhood in Argentina. “Even as Pope, it never changed him.”

Dirk, a tourist from Belgium, noticed how the somber mood seemed to draw people in. He joked that it might pass by Monday, but also pointed out the jarring contrast between the Vatican’s grandeur and the many homeless people nearby. “It’s shocking,” he said, shaking his head.

Among the crowd was Katleho from Lesotho, who recalled receiving the Pope’s Easter blessing just before he died. “It made me feel like a real Catholic!” she said, delighted to be part of the shared experience of honoring the Pope.

For three days, thousands of people from around the world filed into St. Peter’s to pay their respects to the Pope who once said he came “from the end of the world.” Father Ramez Twal from Jerusalem was the last person in line and spoke emotionally about what the Pope had meant to his people: “He taught us love and respect. We will miss him.”

As people entered the basilica, many clutched rosaries, held hands with their children, or quietly snapped photos. Outside, African pilgrims laughed and ate gelato, elderly tourists fanned themselves, and journalists hunted for cardinals to interview. A Brazilian priest spun around joyfully, video calling someone back home to share the moment.