Speaking from the depths of my heart, I wish to honor Jorge Mario Bergoglio, who became Pope Francis by means of a conclave and the Holy Spirit.

Being his fellow countryman, I met Bishop Bergoglio  in Buenos Aires while living in that city between 1996 and 1997. He was then the auxiliary bishop in charge of the deanery where our friary and Provincial Curia is located. Years later, I returned to the same friary in Buenos Aires and lived there in community from 2007 to 2015, this time as Minister Provincial. By then, Bishop Bergoglio  had already been made an archbishop and a cardinal. Then came his surprise election as Bishop of Rome in 2013, and, even more surprisingly, he took the name of “Francis.” A few weeks after he was elected, I had to report to Rome, as part of my duty as President of the Federación América Latina Conventuales (FALC). Being from Argentina, I was able to easily gain access to a public audience and take a seat in what is known as the “baciamano,” that is, the front row, where the pope greets people at the end of the audience.

I was looking forward to greeting him. As he was walking to the Chair, he spotted me and gave me a thumbs-up. Then, when the long-awaited moment came for us to greet one another (which was actually a hug), he called me by name!

I had witnessed a transformation in him. When he was governing the Archdiocese of Buenos Aires, this “cardinal from the end of the world” did not like being on the front pages of newspapers or being greeted in public squares. He was afraid of being flattered. He preferred to be “what one is before God” and nothing more. This choice of his to be consistent meant he wasn’t always popular. He was austere and reserved. He was close to the “least” among us and “strict” with the powerful. He was a shepherd of his flock, not a “policeman of the masses.” He never refused a request for a meeting. At the end of the Chrism Masses, he would remain in his chair and dedicate himself to greeting each of the priests residing in the Archdiocese, who numbered several hundred. He was not a prince, he was a father.

It is well known that, even as an archbishop or cardinal, he always used the city’s public transportation system. Right before the conclave, he visited our friary in just that way.

He always asked the priests to deliver homilies and public statements as he did: short and incisive. He did not use many words, but his teachings were radical. He did not speak using flowery language, nor was that his nature; his choice to be consistent did not allow him to deceive others or himself. His deeds were not showy, but they were very significant. He was just another city dweller, though entrusted with a ministry in the Church. In fact, he was never a clergyman “clothed” in honors.

I remember when he built one of the most beautiful modern churches in the city near our friary, in a poor, working class neighborhood. He was a cardinal who acted like a father, ready to give his life for his children, not a paternalistic populist. He preferred to be deep in the details rather than shine as if he were on stage; he preferred being consistent with the Gospel rather than being popular. He was not trying to please; he was a father.

Every time I asked to speak on the phone with “the Cardinal of Buenos Aires”, I only had to ask the receptionist of the archbishop’s residence and in just two or three minutes, I would receive a call from “Bergoglio”. Every time I sent Christmas or Easter greetings to the Archbishop of Buenos Aires, a hand-signed thank you would arrive at our friary. He was not trying to be nice; he was considerate.

In 2010, he accepted my invitation to preside over a Mass during the General Assembly of our Order, held in Pilar, Argentina. He arrived “quietly” and presided “quietly”. He did not join us for lunch at the main table, he ate in the kitchen with the cooks. We were all struck by such simplicity, but today I understand that he did not like being sought out just because he was a cardinal, and he would put that title aside to dedicate himself to the least, or to point out the inconsistency or injustice of the “powerful.” BERGOGLIO always visited prisons, celebrated Mass in public squares to attract people living on the streets or those who worked in the streets at night. His message was strong, not gentle and his decisions were firm.

I am witness to the transformation that took place when he was elected pope. Let’s be clear; it was a transformation in his communicative and pastoral style. As Pope, BERGOGLIO was no longer just someone who kindly responded or opened the door—he came to meet you; not just as a shepherd devoted to the

On June 17, 2019, just after I was elected Minister General, our Chapter Assembly had an audience with the pope in a way that went beyond protocol. As he entered the Clementine Hall, Francis left his path to the Chair, and instead, came toward me and embraced me.

Thank God I was able to embrace him and call him “you” informally, as he wished. Pope Francis’ pontificate has been consistent with the evangelical principles and values that always defined him. Yet, he knew how to reinvent and transform himself. I believe he deeply internalized the meaning of Mercy, to the point that his gestures became not only fatherly, but also motherly and brotherly. He no longer spared a smile, much less a strong and significant “sign.” He spoke through signs and decisions with the ability to orient and anticipate the future. Not only did he want to remain consistent with his life choices and evangelical proclamation, he wanted to propose them to the Church and the world. He became a symbol of his own vision of the world and of faith.

I will never forget the times I was able to meet with him—his phone calls to respond to me, his handwritten messages, his willingness to see me and listen to me, and the care he took in addressing whatever he could take on.

He was like a father, a mother, and a brother to me. That’s what I felt.