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Monica Portogallo shares memories of World Youth Day 2002.


A few weeks ago, I was up late nursing my baby, and it occurred to me I knew exactly where I was 20 years before on that date: World Youth Day 2002 in Toronto. That got me thinking about the remarkable experience I had, in many ways a miracle from start to finish. 

Growing up in the youth ministry desert of San Francisco, I had not heard of World Youth Day until our college Newman Center mentioned in fall of 2001 that they were planning to send a group. The idea of hearing speakers and meeting faithful young Catholics from all over the world sounded wonderful, so I signed up. I thought it would be nice to see the pope in person, too, but I vaguely remembered seeing him at Candlestick Park in 1987, so that didn’t seem as exciting to me. 

Through fundraising and gifts from some generous sponsors, our group members only paid about $100 each for our whole trip, including airfare and hotel. As a proverbial poor college student, that was such a blessing and made me anticipate that much more that God had something to show me there. 

Our group traveled around the streets and transit of Toronto to various events, talking and singing with young Catholics from all over the world. I imagined heaven must be like that, with people from every nation praising God and living in harmony. 

The people of Toronto should have been annoyed by thousands of young people cramming their buses and streets, but instead they were gracious hosts. They engaged in conversation with us. I read articles in the local paper about how charmed they were by the generally polite and enthusiastic young Catholics who had invaded their city. In the midst of the news of Church scandals that were made very public around this time, it was so refreshing to see something positive about the Catholic Church in the press. 

 

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At that point in my life, I was more into apologetics, so I decided one evening to engage with a young Protestant man who was trying to convert the Catholics at World Youth Day. (It didn’t hurt that he seemed nice and looked like a young Dean Cain, but I digress.) We had a polite conversation, but his companion was quite hostile to me. By the end of the night, he seemed more on my side than his companion’s. We exchanged email addresses, and in 2005 he sent condolences when John Paul II died.

Seeing Pope John Paul II was perhaps that most remarkable thing, though. As I said, I liked the idea of seeing the pope, but I didn’t feel as excited about it as some of the others in my group seemed to be. Yet, when the Popemobile drove by us in the field where we had been waiting, I physically felt something. It is hard to explain; the closest I can come would be to say it was like his holiness was palpable. I started crying tears of joy. Of course, I didn’t know it at the time, but I had been in the presence of a living saint! 

 

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After I returned home from that glimpse of heaven on earth, I created a scrapbook to help me transition back into “real” life. This is the only scrapbook I have ever made, and I hope someday my kids aren’t jealous when they compare that detailed scrapbook to their half-finished baby books. 

A lot has happened in the 20 years since my World Youth Day pilgrimage. I am so grateful that God gave me this consolation experience I can recall to help me through the trials of life in this world.


Copyright 2022 Monica Portogallo
Images: Canva