Twenty years ago, Saint John Paul II the Great left this world. What he was for humanity and in the eyes of history is well known to all, and it is hardly debatable that he was a giant—one of those men who leave an indelible mark.
What he was for me, however, is almost impossible to put into words. He was—and still is—an emotional tsunami, capable of transforming words, gestures, facial expressions, and the tone of his voice into a living miracle of faith, greatness, beauty, and spiritual strength.
His memory is one of the very few things that can still bring a lump to my throat and tears to my eyes. For years, even from afar, I witnessed the pages of history he wrote with his own hands. I had this incomparable privilege, and I remain deeply grateful to the Lord for it.
The least I can do is try not to be entirely unworthy, in hindsight, of the gift I was given. An impossible task, I know—but I'm doing my best...
