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On march the 16th, every year that God sends to us in
this strange world in its topsy turvy ways, in rain or shine, the beautiful
Palazzo Massimo alle Colonne, masterpiece of Baldassarre Peruzzi, that looks on
the savoiard street of Corso Vittorio Emanuele, opens its doors, with valets
dressed up, to the Romans who want to visit the baroque chapel dedicated to the
great Roman Saint Filippo Neri. He, Filippo (Pippo for us Romans…) was the
darlingest and loveliest of saints, simple, beloved, loving, he lived in the
XVI century and dedicated his whole life to the young children that roamed the
Sacred Eternal City in dire poverty. But all the little ones, abandoned and
unloved, found in Pippo a friend and a father. Also Paolo Massimo, the little
prince who lived in the beautiful Palazzo alle Colonne…
One sad day, one very sad day, on the 16th
of march of 1584, the little prince laid in his deathbed. Pippo was summoned,
but could not come in time. The child, a fourteen year old, died and when the
dear priest arrived, it was too late… Yes, but not too late for a man of God.
Pippo sat beside the little dead boy and asked him to come back to him. And
Paolo did! He talked to the priest, received his Sacraments and eventually said
that he rather be in Paradise with his dead mother and went away again. So the
story goes. The room where this wondrous facts took place is now a beautiful
baroque chapel. And this year, walking through the dark rooms of the Palace and
up the stairs to reach the second floor and the chapel, I was there too, to
remember the miracle of a great Saint, to pray where it took place and to live
an ancient Roman tradition that I brought back home tied to my heart, together with Filippo's bliss.
