On a sunny September afternoon in 1987, Ramara residents all along the sandy shores of Lake Simcoe sat, one or two at a time or in groups invited for a Pope-spotting party, all eagerly watching Strawberry Island, waiting for the arrival of Pope John Paul II.
The Pope had returned to Canada to fulfill a promise to visit the Northwest Territories. His scheduled visit to Fort Simpson had been cancelled during his 1984 Canadian tour because the airport was socked in.
As he had done on his first visit and again when he returned in 2002, The Pope stayed at Strawberry Island, which was then a spiritual retreat run by the Toronto-based religious order the Basilian Fathers.
Throughout the afternoon, helicopters hustled back and forth like harassed stage managers getting ready for opening night. Each time a chopper approached the island, folks wondered if this might be “the one,” but time passed and one after another the small aircraft came and went.
At last, a whole squadron approached in a tightly knit flight pattern, surrounding one helicopter just slightly larger and of a different colour. There was no doubt that His Holiness had arrived.
For my husband and me, that was all we saw of the Pope’s visit to Ramara, but it was as if our township was reciprocating the hospitality that had been extended to us two years earlier in Rome.
On Jan. 18, 1985, we had the honour of attending a private papal audience with the faculty and members of the NATO Defense College and their families. The college trains military and civilian members of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization in preparation for their work with the organization. As part of its international diplomacy, the Vatican maintains a relationship with the college, sometimes inviting members to sit in a reserved section in St. Peter’s Square for one of the weekly public audience sessions. From time to time, a private audience is granted to the group.
This occasion was organized with all the precision and protocol of a military exercise or a royal visit. As instructed, we were driven to a specified entrance in St. Peter’s Square where two Swiss Guards in their colourful uniforms stood guard. A third Guardsman led us up a steep staircase to a small but beautifully decorated auditorium. It was about the size of a country church, just right for our group of about 70.
The military members wore the uniform of their respective countries. The women were instructed to wear “sober attire.” Most chose black or dark colours and all the women wore hats with the exception of the ladies of Spain, who arrived bare-headed, and one French woman wore severe black from her toes to her elaborate lace mantilla. An English woman appeared very regal in a long cape of royal purple with a hat of the same rich shade on her snow-white hair.
When everyone was in place, a door opened in the wooden paneling and the Pope entered with his entourage, one of whom spoke words of welcome to NATO and to the college. The college commandant, Lieutenant General Franz J. S. Uhle-Wettler, responded with a short speech of appreciation for the invitation. He also presented a gift book for the Vatican Library in commemoration of the event.
After these introductions, the Pope, slipping seamlessly from one language to another, delivered a short homily and then, stepping away from the lectern, rubbed his hands together and said with a grin, “Now for the pictures.”
With cameras recording every moment, the German commandant and the three deputy commandants, one Dane, one Italian and one Canadian, and their wives, were presented to His Holiness. His comment, on seeing the Canadian uniform, was, “Ah, Canada! I liked Canada.” This was just four months after his 1984 visit.
After the formal presentations, the Pope moved among the rest of the members, seeking out the few children who were there. He laid his hands on their heads and gave them his blessing. The mother of two little boys remarked later, “I may never wash their hair again!”
Too soon the appointed hour came to an end. The hidden door opened and the papal party took its leave.
Among those invited that day, there were many, like ourselves, who were not Roman Catholic. In fact, given the diverse composition of NATO, it is likely that some were not even of the Christian faith. Yet there is no doubt that every person in the group was touched by the aura of that devout and gentle man. He stood before us clad in heavenly white garments but he kept his feet on the ground in a pair of brown oxfords.
It was an honour and a privilege to shake the hand of a Pope. Perhaps one day we will be able to say we shook the hand of a saint.
This article was originally published in the July/August 2011 issue of the Ramara Chronicle.
