The wheels of the gold chair slid across the floor producing slight friction against its surface. The miniscule sound that had been created was eradicated by voices full of indescribable elation, and hands beating together; forming a unison echo across the room, which had been dedicated to the martyred Pope Clemens the IV. His chair was approaching, and an undetectable magnet pulled my being towards this carefully constructed mobile. This one motion had stopped the usual onward movement. I tilted downward, and kissed the Pope´s ring, and as Helen Keller once said, „The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen, nor touched…but are felt in the heart”. The surge of exhilaration that had crowded every cell in my body is a feeling that can never be duplicated, and „the most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and all science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed„ (Albert Einstein). My eyes were open, and I stood on the marble floor admiring His virtue. The Pope´s presence filled the room with its fragrance, and indulged the senses. One recognized that one is touching the hand of Jesus Christ´s representative on earth. What greater gift can God give a human being?