Where the Pope’s Smile Led Me
ghm-globaladminHow one silent moment with Pope Francis inspired a life of radical presence
In the heart of Vatican City, inside the solemn expanse of Pope Paul VI Hall, I met Pope Francis.
He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.
His warm smile radiated the same compassion that has marked his papacy from the beginning. As I held his hand in both of mine, I said, “God bless you. I am praying for you.” That moment, quiet and brief as it was, became a turning point in my life.
"Pope Francis never spoke a word to me, but he said everything." His silence was a call. His smile was a sending.
I had already been working with the poor. But something about that moment—a man of such spiritual weight offering silent solidarity—gave me permission to go deeper. To go further. To go where no one else dares to go.
His vision of a “Church for the poor and with the poor.” His rejection of luxury, choosing humility over hierarchy. His focus on mercy, justice, and action—especially in underserved and forgotten communities. The way he talks to the poor, not about them.
“Francis doesn’t just speak for the poor. He listens to them.”
His encyclicals like Evangelii Gaudium and Laudato Si’ emphasize that dignity, ecology, and justice are isn’t theoretical—it’s personal. It’s visible in his actions.
During his many visits to the margins of society—from the favelas of Brazil to refugee camps in Greece, from Central America to his powerful trip to Africa in 2023 where he walked among displaced families in South Sudan—Pope Francis has shown us what it means to love with presence.
At Global Humanitarian Mission, we walk in the footsteps of Christ.
Our mission is mercy, empowerment, and sustainability. We serve the poorest of the poor—the disenfranchised, the underprivileged—those who have no shelter, no water to sip when thirsty, no food to eat when hungry, no access to medical care.
We serve in the Caribbean, Central and Latin America, Africa, and Asia.
One of our partners is the Felician Sisters of the Poor, working in Kipsing, Isiolo County, Kenya—a region marked by drought, nomadic populations, and deep neglect. There, in the dry savannah, we help provide food through a daily feeding program, build classrooms, and support the education of rural children.
“These are the forgotten people Pope Francis talks about—the marginalized. This is not about charity. It is about presence, solidarity, and shared dignity.”
When I think of Pope Francis—a man of ill health, traveling to places where no pope has gone before—I ask myself: Who are we at GHM not to follow his example?
“His legacy isn’t just in encyclicals or speeches. It’s in the silence of service.”
While in Honduras on one of my many trips, I visited a family in desperate need. They had nothing to eat. No water. No sanitation. The father had gone in search of casual labor, leaving behind a wife, grandmother, and children, huddled in a makeshift shelter on a riverbank.
When it rains, the floods come. Lives have been lost to flash flooding.
The grandmother told me, “All I’ve ever dreamed of is a concrete house.”
“I burst into tears when I heard that cry—from someone who could be my own grandmother.”
We built them a home. We gave them clean water. We built sanitation facilities and a backyard garden for food. That day, we stayed. We listened. We learned the names of everyone on that riverbank.
All 12 families received the promise of a home.
“This is what the Pope’s smile meant: Be present.”
I am committed to serving those in need—transforming lives through the gospel message. I believe that Christ is the poor. Just as He washed the feet of His disciples, we are called to wash the feet of the poor.
“In this action, we honor Pope Francis—not just his gesture, but his spirit. Silent gestures can lead to bold acts of love.”
Pope Francis never spoke to me. But he said everything. And I am still walking in the direction his smile pointed… toward the margins.
