We chose to take our first vacation as a family of three together to Italy with plans to end in Rome to participate in some of the Jubilee-year celebrations.

With it being October, we suspected the off-season would warrant fewer crowds, but we were very wrong. All of the major basilicas were swamped with pilgrim groups from all around the world, so anything Jubilee-related was chaotic.

We had requested and were approved for tickets to the General Papal Audience on October 29th, but due to the crowds thus far, we started to think it would be too much for us to get up at the crack of dawn and drag a 10-month-old out to St. Peter’s Square amongst a crowd of thousands.

The decision was made for us when we couldn’t catch a bus to the ticket office to retrieve our tickets before they closed. So there we were, exhausted from 12 days of travel and content with our decision to have a quiet last day–at least so I thought.

Around 5:30 AM, the morning of the audience, I was awoken by my phone vibrating. I figured it was just someone from the US contacting me, not realizing I was overseas, but when I grabbed my phone, there were no notifications. I lay back down and was just moved by the inclination to try to go to the Papal Audience. So I woke my wife up on her 29th birthday and said, “I am calling a cab — our son James is going to meet the Pope today.”

As feared, we arrived at St. Peter’s Square to find an endless line that went on for as far as one can see. We knew this was a long shot, given we didn’t even have tickets, but a friendly encounter with a large pilgrim group from Paris, France, changed everything. They, of course, wanted to interact with James–and asked if I spoke any French. My wife and I have been in Southie for 6 years now but we are both originally from Louisiana so I told them my French pretty much started and ended with “Laissez les bons temps rouler” from Mardi Gras tradition but that I adored all of the French influence on the culture and cuisine of my home state. And that was enough, they asked if we would join their group for the Papal Audience.

Once we made it through security and into the square we realized how slim the likelihood of an encounter with Pope Leo would be given the number of people and the vast amount of space he would traverse on the Pope mobile. I approached one of the Swiss Guards at a barricade and asked: “Do you know where Pope Leo is going to stop?” I don’t know if he was really supposed to communicate with me but gestured over at a certain barricade railing with his eyes. So there we were, standing at the railing of a massive audience praying for a bit of divine intervention.

After a couple of hours, the crowds began to roar and on a big screen we could see that the procession was starting–and of course, our son had just fallen asleep! The joyful cheers amongst the international crowd was overwhelmingly beautiful and as it got louder and louder I saw the Pope mobile making a turn and heading our way–sorry James–you are going to want to wake up for this opportunity.

It all happened so fast — just as Pope Leo and his crew approached, I took my sleeping son from my wife and stretched him out over the railing as far as I could. And then it happened, the car started to slow, and a man in a suit asked if he could take James. Time slowed, and the noise of the crowd somehow subsided in my head, and we watched James get presented to Pope Leo and given a blessing unimaginably pure. It was unfathomable to see my son lovingly embraced by the Holy Father, Vicar of Christ, successor of the Prince of the Apostles, His Holiness Pope Leo XIV. James left his arms and, in complete shock to us, he made it a point to look for me and Erin and give us the most humbling yet radiating smile. To lock eyes with the Holy Father and feel his support in our vocation to Father and Mother of James was just surreal. The joy we felt in that moment will forever be cherished.

I will end with an excerpt from Pope Leo’s letter that he addressed to the crowd: “May God, who created all men and women, pour into our hearts a spirit of fraternal love, so that we may recognize the imprint of God’s goodness and beauty in every human being.”

Written by Michael Hilborn, South Boston resident, proud husband to Erin, and father to James.