The first time I heard Pope Francis speak was at St. Peter's Square in 2015. He walked out onto the balcony and waved at hundreds of people gathered on a sunny but otherwise nondescript afternoon. He read a short prayer in Italian or Latin—I can't recall which now. A translator, whom I couldn't see from where we stood, repeated the prayer in English. Then either the same translator or someone else did the same in German. Within a few minutes, we'd heard the prayer in perhaps half a dozen languages.
I remember thinking to myself, well, the Pope is from Argentina. Is a translator going to say the prayer in Spanish? Or what's the chance the Pope does it himself? It was my first time in Rome and Vatican City, and my mind started to drift to thinking about what we were going to do next and what else we could cross off our "must see" list.
When Pope Francis began speaking in Spanish, a thunderous rumble cascaded across the square. A man next to me waved a Peruvian flag enthusiastically, and throughout the crowd, I saw flags from other Latin American countries waving faster and faster with each word. I brought my fist to my chest, surprised at the emotional impact of hearing that Argentine accent and those few words. We're a migrant people—the Pope himself was the son of Italian immigrants—and hearing my mother tongue spoken by the highest office of our church moved me in a way that would only be surpassed by the birth of my children.
It's been a difficult few months for Latinos in the United States. The new administration has been cruel, vindictive, and spiteful in its attitude toward Latinos. They're sending us to mega-prisons in El Salvador through "administrative error," arresting U.S. citizens for breaking unconstitutional state laws, and shuttering avenues for us to gain legal residency.
We're concerned for our parents, many of whom fled authoritarianism in their home countries only to see it resurface in the supposed land of the free. And we worry for our children who, though born in the U.S., may never be made to feel at home.
Pope Francis criticized the Trump administration's treatment of migrants, stating that Trump's plan for mass deportations violates the "dignity of many men and women and their families." On Easter, just hours after meeting with Vice President Vance, Pope Francis asked in his sermon, "How much contempt is stirred up at times toward the vulnerable, the marginalized, and migrants?"
Latin Americans have lost a huge supporter, and the world has lost a great man. My only hope is that the next pope follows in the footsteps of Jorge Bergoglio and leads his flock with humility, grace, and love—so that one day I can take my children to Saint Peter's Square where we can listen with awe and respect, even if the new Pope doesn't speak Spanish.