Pilgrimage to Rome.

I can't think of a better honeymoon. My wife, Alba, and I headed to Rome to see one of our heroes canonize another one of our heroes.

We had already seen Pope John Paul II at World Youth Day in Toronto in 2002 and his presence moved us to tears. Here was an 82-year-old man once again defying his ailments and fatigue. "We have all of eternity to rest," he once told an aide and by week's end, even some of Toronto's sceptical news reporters could not conceal their admiration. Our second hero, Josemaria Escriva, a man to whom I prayed for three years to help me find a good wife, was to be officially declared a saint.

We headed to Rome to show our gratitude to this Spanish man who is little known outside the Spanish world. It was my second time at the Vatican, my first as a practising Catholic. The difference is enormous. As a curious secular tourist I travelled with an emptiness that was never quite filled. But this time with each prayer and Rosary and Mass this Catholic pilgrim was filled up and bubbling over with excitement and love for his home, the Church, and a sense of wonder at this supernatural institution.

No other Western institution is as old or has endured unchanged. Governments, even nations, come and go. Protestant churches splinter and fall further and further away from what their founders intended. Yet no Pope has ever contradicted another on official teachings on faith and morals. Our church simply had to be founded by God. With thoughts like this our excitement grew with each passing minute. Our conversations filled with superlatives. "We're so lucky to be Catholic," "Isn't the Pope great?" "Wow, no other religion declares one a saint."

We flew to Paris, and took a train at 300 km/h to Marseilles and a cruise ship to a port near Rome. We did this because we needed a place to sleep at night. We were not the only pilgrims heading to Rome for the October 6, 2002, canonization. About 350,000 people, including 800 from Canada, had the same idea. Hotel rooms everywhere were booked. When we found a ship docking at the port of Civitavecchia, we jumped at the opportunity.

The ship, with 11 floors, carrying 700 cars and about a dozen buses, arrived at the Italian port on Saturday afternoon, October 5. The next morning we walked for 25 minutes to catch the 6 a.m. train to Rome. We hurried to Saint Peter's Square, arriving at 7:30 a.m. and hoping to be among the first pilgrims, in section 7--in the middle of the square--as indicated by the tickets mailed to us in Canada. But as we walked past the large double Tuscan columns, designed by the famous Bernini in the 17th century, we saw the square was already half-filled. People poured in from all sides. The canonization of this new saint was not until 10 a.m. Mass was at 11 a.m. It all ended by 12:30.

Five hours of standing is a small price to pay when one of your heroes, Pope John Paul II, stands before you and canonizes another of your heroes, Josemaria Escriva de Balaguer, and then presents a third and far greater hero, Jesus Christ, in the Eucharist. And all this at the centre of Christianity and in probably the most famous square in all of the world and in which I felt very much at home. It was one of the few times that I did not mind a large crowd. More than 1,000 priests, with guides carrying white umbrellas to make them visible, passed through the sea of faces to distribute Communion.

More than 350 bishops were seated in front of St. Peter's Basilica to honour a man who spent a lifetime encouraging all of us to be holy, to be heroes, to be saints. The Pope praised the Church's newest saint, quoting from Josemaria's book The Way to remind us that the secret of the saints is first in prayer, second in expiation of sins, and third, "very much in the third place, action."

I had a portable radio and tuned in to one of the Vatican radio stations to hear the English version of what was being said in Spanish, French, Italian, German or a number of other languages, including Swahili. "Looking down," said the commentator, "I cannot see the ground. It's packed down there."

The crowd overflowed the square and filled Via Della Conciliazione, all the way to the Tiber River. The day's celebration ended when a small white jeep drove the Pope slowly around the square and all the way to the Tiber. The crowds roared, swooned, gasped and wept.

"For every Italian in Rome today there are 50 Spaniards," an Italian taxi driver complained to us later. Newspapers the next day estimated 300,000 to 500,000 people filled St. Peter's Square. Never had I seen so many priests dressed in black with white collars. As soon as we came within a kilometre of the Vatican, we began to see them, a comforting and impressive sight. They were everywhere. One night in St. Peter's Square we saw numerous groups of priests, including six strolling together as they prayed the Rosary. In city streets we saw priests eating meals with other priests and with friends and family. We saw an elderly priest pushed in a wheelchair by a young priest who looked more like a college student.

A thanksgiving Mass was scheduled for the next day, Oct. 7. We arrived just in time for a 10 a.m. Mass at St. Peter's Square, which again was overfilled.

Almost immediately we found a barrier at the edge of the south wing of columns where few people stood. It offered an obscured view of the altar but a face to face view of the Pope if his driver today were to choose this narrow path around the square. The Mass was celebrated by the head of Opus Dei.

The Pope was nowhere to be seen. When Mass ended, cheers erupted somewhere in front of us, sounding like waves crashing against rocks. The Pope's face suddenly appeared on the large video screens erected around the square. He was standing again in a small white jeep, not the large popemobile with glass walls. There was now a crowd 15 people deep behind us. People screamed. A group of Mexicans chanted: "The Pope is Mexican." Italians had their own clapping and song routine that began with: "Giovanni Paulo." In English I heard the familiar: "John Paul Two, we love you."

Children rested on the shoulders of their fathers to get a better look. Others stood on chairs and boxes. One man had his own step ladder. Where the square meets Via Della Conciliazione, scaffolding to hold up the large videos suddenly became fair game as teenage boys climbed them to get a better view. Intersection lights became perches for anxious admirers. Hands waved all around us and suddenly the jeep, followed by nine or ten men dressed in dark black suits, appeared and stopped right in front of us. The jeep faced us and the Pope was directly in front of us, no more than 12 feet away. Hands reached out toward him and at the end of one pair was a baby.

The Pope leaned over and kissed its forehead. Three more babies appeared and the Pope kissed them. The Pope looked up towards us and waved. I was so moved I no longer noticed the screaming. Alba was crying.

The jeep turned the corner, ending a moment in time that we will never forget. As the jeep drove slowly away people farther ahead handed babies from one pair of arms to another until they reached the Pope, who again leaned over when the jeep stopped and kissed them. It suddenly occurred to me that we were in an area where we didn't need to pass through metal detectors and we were only metres away from where the Pope was shot in 1981.

Suddenly, a little body appeared at my left side. A woman had pushed her way through the crowd with a one-year-old and handed her to a stranger, a female security guard, and asked her to take the baby to the Pope. The security guard held the baby in her arms, turned around and talked with a second security guard, who told her the Pope would not pass this way again. Reluctantly, the mother took her child back.

The first thing that struck me about the Pope was how old he looked. The second thing was his tremendous endurance. Alba and I made two special trips in one year to see the Pope but he's been making trips around the world for 24 years to meet the people and to encourage us not to be afraid of the Gospel message. His determination is a testimony, especially to the elderly and infirm who often feel they can no longer contribute. They need to hear his reply when confronted with suggestions that his physical ailments require him to slow down. "Jesus did not come down from the cross," The Ottawa Citizen reported him saying, in an article on his health, early in 2002.

Back at the ship we met a young Spanish film producer who was more than happy to show us footage that he had shot for EWTN in the United States. Producer Marco Bugallo was surprised by the huge numbers of young women in the square who adored the Pope. "The girls reacted like he was the Beatles - crying," he said, adding that he saw the Pope before entering the square and he looked very tired. "But the Church of the people gives him energy."

Pilgrims to Rome must endeavour to persevere. They sleep on boats, planes, trains, and buses just to get there and end up walking and standing for hours. About 15 million swell this glorious city of 2.6 million each year. They tend to return from their journey and put their feet up. I went straight to emergency and acquired crutches, X-rays, and anti-inflammatory pills. My flat feet were so swollen they looked like grotesquely oversized white potatoes. But I have almost forgotten that. What I remember are my heroes. (+)

Patrick Meagher is the author of "Perhaps, I love you more: Why millions love John Paul II." He is the publisher of Eastern Ontario Farmers Forum, Kemptville, ON.