I found myself in line to see the corpse of the Pope with some of my confreres in a sea of 4,000,000 other pilgrims! Every day I stood in line with the clergy in their soutanes and the nuns in their habits as the world watched. Each of us there mourned in our own way (my method turned out to be this: I wandered around with the famous '78 Felici photo of the Pope).
In a civilization of hyenas, there is the See of Peter. Moored out in the center of the stream is the Church; an island and a bridge. It is all refereed by God as the Pope stands at a rostrum to safeguard and pass on the Deposit of Faith.