In Rome, Cardinal Ratzinger was known to take a stroll every afternoon through Borgo Pio, a street lined with restaurants and cafes just next to the Vatican. There the man, decorated with the highest ecclesiastical dignity, walked along in the shadows of the houses in a worn, black cassock to stretch his legs after the pranzo, the Italian lunch. I met him there once too. My friendly greeting was returned no less friendly, with a smile and a slight raising of the hand. That’s how the people of the Borgo knew and liked him.
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