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It was before dawn on Pentecost, the great Christian feast that celebrates the descent of the Holy Spirit upon Jesus' Apostles. In the cool June night, 5,000 people stood watch in the moonlit piazza of St. Peter's. Some prayed; some chatted; someRome being what it iseyed their neighbors for the bulge of a wallet, the unguarded clasp of a handbag. Most of those at the vigil looked often to the lighted windows on the top floor of the Vatican Palace. There the life of Pope John XXIII was slowly, inevitably, ebbing...
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