On every international trip, Pope Francis is in the habit of greeting journalists one by one at their seats on the plane. This friendly routine usually lasts around 20 minutes and provides an opportunity for these professionals who are daily tuned into the pope to exchange a few words with him. But it also leads, with increasing regularity, to a strange merry-go-round.
“I’m the one who started the trend,” claims a journalist who is used to apostolic journeys.
The trend in question is to take advantage of that brief interaction with Francis in order to give him a gift.
Gifts of all kinds
It is undeniable that this experienced colleague excels in the art of honoring the Pope … sometimes with paintings of “Teresina,” as she’s called in Italian — St. Thérèse of the Child Jesus, whom the Pope loves so much.
A special feature of this last trip was the image offered wrapped in a cocoa burlap bag from Papua New Guinea, one of the destinations that awaited them.
On the plane to Jakarta, an occasional gift sparked general hilarity. For example, an Argentinian journalist presented the Pontiff with a small hand-held electric fan to help him beat the heat that he and his audiences would face during the visit.
Later, an American colleague saw the Pope’s face light up with a big smile when he recognized Blessed Carlo Acutis, a future Italian saint, on the cover of the book she was offering him.
The Bishop of Rome also seemed to appreciate the Argentinian “bonbones” (sweets) she surreptitiously slipped this pope from a faraway land.
Another reporter, a Frenchman, presented the Pope with a headlamp, certainly not of much use to the Pope, but it had already served a meaningful purpose: It had enabled a migrant to be found by rescuers as his boat wandered through the night.
“A sign of hope,” commented this colleague, who was warmly thanked by the Pope.
A Piedmontese then gave him a cross made from marine ropes, a craft and then industrial specialty of the Bergoglio family‘s home region. Immediately afterwards, a German journalist followed up with a relic of one of the Magi found by her father, while a more strategically-minded Frenchman promised the Pontiff to bring to the Vatican the last photo of Archbishop Romero, taken just before his assassination.
The Holy Father’s gift-handling team
Untiringly, Francis thanked each generous donor, took hold of the “regalo” and held it over his shoulder, behind which a hand appeared and made it disappear.
After greeting the Pontiff, I observed this simple, efficient procession that follows him between the airplane seats: first his butler, a giant with a gentle smile who carries a thick suitcase, then three young Vatican gendarmes.
As the three anonymous men wait, their arms are gradually loaded with packages, bags, and boxes of all kinds of sweets … and at the end of this round of greetings, they end up covered in gifts for the Pope.