On May 8, the world was introduced to the new pope. As I am sure you’re aware, the plume of white smoke arose from the chimney of the Vatican, signifying a majority vote by the Conclave of Cardinals, and therefore the new pope.
Though I am not Catholic, I have always admired the peace and good will of the popes through the years.
So on that day, while visiting my mother, we tuned in to watch the daily news on TV. Instead we were greeted by the sight of white smoke emerging amid the seagulls on the Vatican roof. Quite a welcome sight!
We plopped down on the couch and immediately began speculating who the new pope might be. We had heard the guesses of the frontrunners for the past week and a half, and of course, had formulated our own opinions.
It is not unlike the running of the Kentucky Derby or the Broad Street Run. Who would emerge from the crowd?
While we had our opinions, neither my mom nor I were ready for what happened next. It was an American cardinal! What? Neither of us predicted that one!
I had never heard of Robert Prevost and knew nothing of his ministry or history. Once his name was announced, we were fascinated by what came next. We heard in passing the words “he studied mathematics and graduated from Villanova in 1977.”
We looked at each other: “What did they just say?”
You see, my father was a math professor at Villanova from 1960 through 1989. If our new esteemed pope studied mathematics during his years at Villanova, it would be likely that my father taught him at some point.
That is just an amazing feeling! We began to speculate and bask in the glory of six degrees of separation. We immediately felt a kinship to the pontiff, for no actual reason based in fact.
As our wonder grew, my brother took the proverbial bull by the horns. He is a math professor at Notre Dame and contacted the math department at Villanova. Being a math genius has its privileges!
Bear in mind that once they announced the identify of Pope Leo XIV, everyone at Villanova was elated and doing their own research into his time at the university. I enrolled there in the fall of 1977.
My brother was able to contact a professor who actually knew my dad back then, and he confirmed it for us: my father taught our new pope for two semesters, an extended course in advanced calculus.
Well, you can imagine the excitement in our family.
My Paraguayan father, being a soft-spoken, gentle and brilliant man, would often offer us advice. By us, I mean my brother and me, my daughters and my brother’s kids as well. To this day, all of us adhere to dad’s mantra, moderation, intelligence, restraint.
That was Dad’s recipe for going through life. I can only imagine that if my dad had advised Robert Prevost, now known as Pope Leo, it could have helped him on his journey through life, leading to such an honorable place.
Yes, I am taking huge liberties and letting my imagination take me where it will. But the past few days have conjured up great memories of my father, and perhaps his small hand in history, many years after he left us. Thanks, Dad.
I feel like no matter where I go in my life or what I endure, you are behind that white smoke guiding and inspiring not only me, but all who knew Professor Francisco Migliore.
