What Do I Have in Common with a Pope?

Raised a Lutheran, you would think the Pope and I have little in common.

Besides the theological differences, I cannot wear white.  When I do, I spill coffee or splash small bits of tomato sauce, sending my outfit back to the laundry.  Nor can I shake a Sheik’s hand.

He is a celibate man.  I have proven myself to be a fertile woman.

Yet …

On his first day on the job, Pope Francis prayed to Saint Mary.  I love Mary and pray to her often.

We are both from the Americas and are transplants to ancient civilizations.  Some call Rome the Cradle of Western Civilization.  Some call Bahrain, Noah’s Paradise.

Like Pope Francis, I haven’t had a decent, salaried job for years.  None of my shoes are red, nor do I own a pair of Pradas.  And, although I wore a cape to my wedding, I have since shunned it for simpler clothing.

During our recent visit to the Vatican, I learned that Pope Francis likes to sneak out and has thwarted his security by abandoning his limousine.  I also used to sneak out, disguising myself in an attempt to hide from security.

For our escapes, we both stuck to simple cars.  Pope Francis preferred his Ford Fiesta.  I drove my parent’s Volkswagen.

And here’s what I noticed at the Vatican.

There, in the pope-mobile exhibit, is the last, Volkswagen bug manufactured.  It is the same color blue as the one I used to drive.  But, unlike my parent’s car, the Pope’s is in mint condition.

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