Wednesday Morning

By now you will realize that I am not trying to tell you what you are

already reading in the paper, but to offer some stories that won't be

reported. And I promise the pace of these will slow down until Friday.

Today's favourite: I had a call from our embassy to the Holy See asking for

some information, and once it was over I was chatting with the lady (a

Canadian). She told me that the location of the embassy made things

difficult for her: it is right on the Via della Conciliazione, and the

loudspeakers broadcasting the Rosary and other prayers are right outside the

building.

"I'm sure that makes it very difficult to work," I said understandingly.

"Oh no," she said, "that's not what I mean... it's just that the work

interferes with praying the Rosary."

The line-up for St. Peter's has now reached epic length. A group from Spain

joined the line last night at 9, and has just returned disappointed eleven

hours later (for three of those hours they didn't move, since the basilica

is closed from 2-5 a.m. for maintenance. A priest in the house, older than

I am, spent eleven hours in line yesterday, managing to pay his last

respects--but his back is very sore. Still, he was deeply touched by the

experience, and by the tranquility of the crowd. No-one pushed or shoved

(something of a rarity around here!).

The transportation system is becoming very strained. The subway is almost

unusable due to the crowds, and they have added shuttle buses from the train

station.

Headlines in the Vatican newspaper, Osservatore Romano, have been powerful.

One describes the Holy Father's death as "his most shining hour," while

another (referring to his lying in state) says "His face still speaks, his

hand still blesses."

Posters on the street, still a common means of communication here, say

"Good-bye Holy Father" and "Rome Weeps for her Pope."

I talked with CBC television this morning and should show up briefly on The

National tomorrow (Thursday) evening. Peter Mansbridge arrives today and

will be doing the news from Rome for three days.

Wednesday Evening

I've just come in from a late dinner with good friends from Vancouver and

walked home past the crowd. Nothing I have said to this point comes close

to describing what I saw, or how it made me feel. The length of the line

appears to have much more than doubled, and it stretches down along the

Tiber as far as the eye can see (at night, anyway). The nighttime crowd

seems to be mostly young people, and they are singing and praying. When the

line starts to move they cheer.

I am only guessing, but I think that the line, if it were straight, would

reach ten abreast from the foot of Granville Street to the airport (or for

those in Toronto, from the foot of Yonge to Steeles). Two young woman I

spoke with spent 15 hours waiting, having took a train all night last night.

I find such love for the Pope overwhelming. I don't know whether there is

any precedent for this in history.

The City of Rome has now turned its poster into illuminated signs... at the

bottom of the Pope's picture is one word: Grazie (Thanks).