During the summer of 2024, my family and I went to visit my uncles and cousins, who live in Milan, Italy.
During our stay, my father, who worked for many years in the field of interreligious dialogue in Buenos Aires, Argentina, received an invitation from none other than Pope Francis, who wanted to meet us at his residence, The Domus Sanctae Marthae (The House of Saint Martha).
My parents, my younger brother, and I went, filled with joy at the thought of this special occasion, knowing that the Holy Father is Argentine, like us, and that my father holds dual citizenship, Turkish and Argentine by naturalization.
My mother carried a thermos with hot water and a mate ready to be served. Mate is a typical Argentine drink, often enjoyed anywhere and at any time, made with yerba mate and hot water.
For many years, we had seen photos of Pope Francis drinking mate in St. Peter's Square. These photos hold a very special meaning for all Argentines. Who would have thought that we would be gathered for more than an hour with him, as a family, sharing that typical drink, mate, in such a beautiful moment of encounter? My aunt Nancy, the owner of that mate, treasures it like a relic since that day.
His Holiness was so sweet, friendly, and welcoming with us, that I dared to ask him, "How did you discover your vocation?" In response, he told us his story. He recounted that, upon entering the Church of San José de Flores, a popular neighborhood in Buenos Aires, Argentina, he felt a calling and was certain that he wanted to be a priest, specifically a Jesuit, to serve the most needy.
My favorite interactions were between the Holy Father and my younger brother, Benjamin, who the Pope remarked had a "mischievous face." He asked my little brother if he was brave, and when he responded "yes," the Pope asked him to go out and tell the Swiss Guard standing at the door to bring chocolates. So, my brother stood up and went to complete the task: he returned with a tray full of chocolates and sweets!
One of the things that touched my heart the most was a phrase from the Pope directed at my parents: "The best example of dialogue is your family." He highlighted this because my mother is Catholic and my father is Muslim. They married more than 20 years ago, and despite their differences in faith, they have built a family centered on respect for values and the Sacraments. Everything is possible, though not always easy, when God is at the center. God’s plan is always better than ours.
After our meeting time had ended, and after he kindly allowed us to take photos with him, he blessed us and our religious objects, and gave each of us a commemorative medal of his ten years of pontificate, as well as an exclusive keychain. We left happy and blessed, none other than by the Vicar of Christ on Earth, carrying with us the memory of his ever-present kindness and hospitality, which we first experienced when he was Father Jorge, Archbishop of the City of Buenos Aires, Argentina.
I entered that meeting thinking the Pope would be a solemn figure, that it would be a unique (and it was) but distant and respectful, hyper-formal encounter. However, it was a humble and human encounter with a shepherd: the shepherd that young people need, that shepherd who draws his flock with love. That shepherd, as he himself says, with the smell of sheep.
We also had the opportunity to visit sacred and historic sites, museums, and churches in Rome, but nothing was the same after that precious and enriching encounter with our Pope.
Blessed Carlo Acutis, my favorite saint who will be canonized on April 27, 2025, says that sometimes a simple movement of the eyes is enough, a look from below to above, to come closer to God. And that is how I felt after having that encounter with the Pope, with a desire to "look up."
By Santiago Colak. He is the son of Mrs. Gabriela Colak, Director of Religious Education at Holy Infancy Parish in Bethlehem.
