My memory of Pope Francis is bound up with one of the many gifts that Pippi (Emanuela) left me—fragments of that light she had, the way she could "infect" everything around her with it. It was 2015, the day of the Jubilee dedicated to people with disabilities. Marina and I were accompanying Pippi when the Swiss Guards separated us from the rest of the crowd and moved us toward the front rows. We had no idea we were about to meet the Pope. When he arrived, Francis's first gesture was to put Pippi's hat back on—to shield her from the sun. We had taken it off so she could receive his blessing! Then, with complete ease, he asked us Pippi's name and whether one of us was her mother. He smiled when we told him we were just three friends. He blessed us all and said goodbye with such tenderness it warmed your heart. It was a simple encounter. He spoke like any priest greeting a parishioner after Sunday Mass. In the end, he was simply the Pope.
Daniela Costantini
A glance, a touch, presence that becomes tenderness… The joy of telling Grazia that the Pope had actually stopped to greet Pippi (Emanuela)—so then the small ones really do come first in this St. Peter's Square, transfigured for us into a small piece of heaven.
Marina Fattori
I want to remember Pope Francis for his message to people with disabilities. One word struck me: friendship. He used it again and again. I was grateful that the Pope had written that I matter to the Church, that I am needed. True, my situation means I depend on many things. But I also have my calling as a disciple of Jesus. I know many in the Church see us as angels. But I know I have my flaws, like everyone else. Being called an angel makes me almost inhuman. And I want to be recognized as a human being. What comforts me is that the Pope acknowledged that life, for us people with disabilities and our families, is not easy at all. And the pandemic made it even harder. Since that day, my life has changed because of him—because he helped me understand that standing beside someone who is fragile is a gift.
Antonietta Pantone