By Francisco José Gismondi, SJ

I met Fr Jorge Bergoglio, SJ, when I was discerning my vocation. In early 1981, my novice master, Fr Ernesto López Rosas, SJ, sent me to speak with Bergoglio for an interview. At that time, he was rector of the Colegio Máximo de San Miguel, where I would meet him again two years later.

After my novitiate, on March 12, 1983, I made my First Vows. After the ceremony and celebration, we moved to the Colegio Máximo, where we would begin our studies. There, we were welcomed by Fr Bergoglio as our Superior. We were very afraid, because he had a reputation for being demanding, and there were many attitudes we had to adjust from our novitiate experience: giving up smoking, keeping to a strict study schedule – even on Sundays – and taking on very demanding jobs in the house, such as looking after pigs, cleaning, maintaining the garden, and acting as security guards, among other things. But after three months, when I was 20, I was “fortunate” enough to be called to his office and I was put in charge of administration.

I had attended a secondary school specializing in administration, so from that moment on I took on a more comfortable job, which involved a close daily relationship with the Superior, as he kept strict control of our income and expenses. This relationship lasted three years. Then there was a change of Superior and I no longer had a close relationship, although I continue to work in administration to this day.

While I was completing my final years of training, Fr Bergoglio was ordained bishop, so we no longer had the opportunity to share community or activities in the Society. In 1998, he became Archbishop of Buenos Aires. Since I was living in the Archdiocese, I attended his first Chrism Mass. We exchanged a brief, cold greeting, and he responded with his now famous “pray for me”. We never saw each other again.

Fifteen years later, in 2013, fortune found me living in Rome since 2007. From the window of my room in the General Curia of the Society, I could see the front of the Vatican, and I could even see the chimney of the Sistine Chapel. On March 13, I returned from work, and since it was the hour of the fumata, I looked out the window and waited. As soon as I saw the white smoke, I grabbed a jacket and rushed to the square. I couldn’t miss such an important event while in Rome. I ran into a colleague who began to speculate, “What if it’s Bergoglio?” I kept quiet; I didn’t feel like seeing someone I knew in that place. We reached the middle of the square, which was already packed with people. We waited for more than 40 minutes when we began to see lights and movement behind the windows at the front of St Peter’s.

As soon as I heard the Cardinal say “Georgium Marium”, I wanted to leave. I couldn’t believe it. My colleague encouraged me to stay, and I began to listen in the silence of the square along with several “chi è?” (who is it?).Memories, thoughts, encounters, and things that had happened to us over many years came flooding back, and they all conflicted with what I was seeing. I spent a month like that, trying to reconcile myself with the past and with the present. As I listened to his catechesis every Wednesday and saw the change in his image, I grew closer to the spirit of Francis and forgot Bergoglio.

On May 25, our national holiday, I was able to send him a letter of greeting through his secretary, and a few days later I received a call to meet up. “You’re still counting money”, was the first thing he said to me; he hadn’t forgotten our years of close work together. On July 31, Francis celebrated the feast of St Ignatius at the Gesù. That day, although he did not greet all the Jesuits who were participating, I slipped through the corridors and made my way to where they were. I was about to be expelled by his security, but I was saved by the intervention of my Jesuit brothers, and we were able to greet each other and share some memories.

A year later, he came to lunch at the General Curia, and I was seated at the table with our Superior General, the Superior of the Community, and the Assistant for Latin America. We shared a very entertaining lunch, full of stories and memories. Until I returned to Argentina in early 2016, we had several encounters: a couple in Santa Marta accompanying family members; some during the Wednesday audiences; and others when he came to eat at the Community.

Perhaps the most curious: one Sunday I was on Via della Conciliazione, waiting for him to come out in the popemobile, as was customary after Mass in the square. He just made the turn back where I was and, recognizing me, stretched out his hand to greet me.