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THE RIDE OF A LIFETIME
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Since the accident deprived him of his sight,
Vincent Morell had been in and out of hospitals
and in and out of consciousness. He knew that
he had been in a plane for many hours, but the
restless wakefulness and back could not identify
this current mode of travel. On smooth surfaces,
he thought he was riding the rails in a boxcar;
on cobblestones, he seemed to be on the moon's
cratered terrain in the lunar rover. All the while,
someone was talking Italian in soothing, resonant
tones.
Suddenly he was conscious of light.
His eyes were open.
He could see whom his traveling companion
had been and what he had been riding in!
No less was his fellow passenger than the
Holy Father himself and the means of miraculous
conveyance was the Pope-Mobile!
Vincent Morell had been in and out of hospitals
and in and out of consciousness. He knew that
he had been in a plane for many hours, but the
restless wakefulness and back could not identify
this current mode of travel. On smooth surfaces,
he thought he was riding the rails in a boxcar;
on cobblestones, he seemed to be on the moon's
cratered terrain in the lunar rover. All the while,
someone was talking Italian in soothing, resonant
tones.
Suddenly he was conscious of light.
His eyes were open.
He could see whom his traveling companion
had been and what he had been riding in!
No less was his fellow passenger than the
Holy Father himself and the means of miraculous
conveyance was the Pope-Mobile!
