José Carlos de Sousa spent his last years living under Bernini’s Colonnade in St. Peter’s Square. A 61-year-old Brazilian, José was a homeless poet. As a beggar, he asked only for notebooks. While many would have sought other sources of comfort, José found solace in his writing, recording the thoughts and observations that came to him as he watched the endless stream of pilgrims and tourists arriving in Rome.
Vatican News reported that, during a Vatican press conference, a line from one of José’s poems was read aloud:
Per strada e in ogni altro luogo non parlo quasi mai, mi limito a guardare, ascoltare, pensare, e a volte scrivere per non esser solo al mondo (“On the streets and everywhere else, I almost never speak. I limit myself to watching, listening, thinking, and sometimes writing, so as not to feel alone in the world”).
These words reveal the quiet dignity with which he bore his suffering, using poetry as a way to relate to a world that often overlooked him.
José had little concern for material needs, telling those who tried to help him that they should give to others in greater need. His only request: “Bring me notebooks.” His poetry was his way of coping with loneliness – and discovering the divine.
This week, two cardinals gathered to pay tribute to him: Cardinal Konrad Krajewski, the papal almoner who serves the poor in Rome, and Cardinal Leonardo Ulrich Steiner, the archbishop of Manaus, who took a brief break from the synod to attend his countryman’s funeral.
Fraternity in poverty
The funeral, held in the chapel of St. Monica, was a small but deeply moving affair, attended by nuns, volunteers and José’s friends from the streets.
Speaking of the significance of the moment, Cardinal Steiner shared:
“When Cardinal Krajewski told me that there would be a funeral for a Brazilian, I immediately asked if I could go. And when he told me how José lived, I felt even more the need to be there. During the service, I saw his companions come forward, each one placing a flower on his coffin. In their poverty, in having almost nothing, there was a fraternity that was deeply evangelical. It was a privilege to witness that moment, because it was a sign that the Kingdom of God is present, even in places where we don’t think it is.”
Cardinal Krajewski spoke of José Carlos as a pure man. “He didn’t present himself well,” the cardinal admitted, “but in the colonnade he was like an angel, showing the faithful the way to the basilica.”
Although he was often judged by passers-by, those who knew him saw him as a silent guide, directing others on their spiritual journey.
At the end of the funeral, each of José’s friends placed a flower on his mahogany coffin, their final act of love for a man who lived simply but whose heart was full. May he now rest in peace.
