just about ready to rise, shuffle out of his bedchamber and into his private kitchen for a cup of coffee, when his chief aide burst into the room in a state of high anxiety.
"Your Holiness, He's back! He's back!"
"Excuse me, Legate?" the pontiff replied, quite alarmed by his aide's demeanor.
"He's back! Just as He promised! Today is the big day!" the aide stuttered out.
The aide could not express himself more clearly, owing to his excitement and fear, so the pope rose from his bed, donned a robe and slippers, and followed his aide to the papal audience chamber. Before the final turn to the chamber, he halted his aide and peered cautiously around the corner.
And indeed, He was back! Jesus Christ Himself, glowing like the Sun, with a retinue of angels around Him, stood before the Throne of Saint Peter in His full glory. The Son of God was looking hither and thither, obviously waiting for someone to enter, recognize and greet Him.
"Dio mio," the pope whispered as he retreated into the corridor. "It is Him! All the prophecies have been fulfilled at last!"
The papal aide, who by that time was approaching apoplexy, whispered, "But Your Holiness, what should we do?"
The pope, eyes wide, spread his hands in bewilderment and uttered a single, all-important command:
stolen liftedBorrowed from Eternity Road