I was fortunate enough to meet him in 1966, when I was in first grade. The Polish band of missionaries, called the Pauline fathers, we building a giant shrine in Doylestown, Pennsylvania, called the National Shrine of Our Lady of Czestochowa, home of the Czarna Madonna in America.He was only Karol Cardinal Wojtyla then.
As I was brought up Catholic and am of Polish heritage, when they made him the Pope, I rejoiced with all Polonia when The Holy Father was installed.I avidly followed his travels,prayed with concern during his attempted assassination, prayed with him as he failed with Parkinson’s disease. I Cried as I was up early watching his funeral.
It goes without saying that I was up at 3 am yesterday morning watching “my” Pope declared Saint.I had a little tear in my eye thinking of my family who would be watching the proceedings in heaven, My dad was five months younger than the Pope so it goes without saying he followed his papacy with interest, and for all I know, he can be rubbing shoulders with him in heaven now.
Saint John Paul II, ora pro nobis.