Ten years ago, on a January 17 like no other, Pope Francis, the leader of the 1.4-billion Catholic faithful, descended from his plane at the Daniel Romualdez Airport in Tacloban City, ground zero of Super Typhoon Yolanda, and brought light, hope, mercy, compassion, and above all, love.
 

This photo shows Pope Francis celebrated Mass and delivered his Homily, blending with Yolanda survivors in yellow raincoats during his apostolic visit to Tacloban, Leyte on January 17, 2015. (Raymund Antonio/MANILA BULLETIN/AP) 

That he braved strong winds and rain to be there was a testament to the courage and humility of his conviction to be with Taclobanons, who, more than a year before that, lost lives and loved ones to the super typhoon.
 

“I’d like to tell you something close to my heart. When I saw from Rome that catastrophe I had to be here. And on those very days I decided to come here,” he said in a Homily before thousands of Taclobanons on a makeshift altar in the same airport where he landed.
 

The Pope spoke in his native of Spanish, discarding a prepared Homily after being visibly touched by the sea of people gathered in the Mass despite the overcast skies and heavy drizzle.
 

Armed with nothing but prayers and fueled by the most fervent of hope, dripping wet and shivering from the cold, Filipinos who had lost their everything camped out at the airport, lined up along the streets, and squeezed into quadrants to get a glimpse of the man they called “Lolo Kiko.”

A rain-drenched but lively crowd wearing yellow raincoats welcomed Pope Francis in Yolanda-hit Tacloban City. (Krizjohn Rosales/MANILA BULLETIN)

The then 78-year-old pontiff looked nothing like the man from the balcony of St. Peter’s Basilica, clad in his splendid white-and-gold ensemble, his head adorned by the papal tiara, to give his Urbi et Orbi (to the City and to the World) blessings during Easter and Christmas.
 

Instead, he was clad in a simple and unassuming yellow raincoat, his face a little bit misty from the rain, while looking at his flock who were, by then, wiping the mix of tears and rain from their faces. He was one with them.
 

News of His Holiness’ passing brought an audible gasp that can be heard around the world. For me, his passing brought me back to 10 years ago, when I stood on the sidelines as he delivered his Homily to Taclobanons.
 

I didn’t know it back then, but it would be the most memorable coverage of my career.

Media handbook and ID for Pope Francis' visit in the Philippines from Jan. 15-19, 2015. 

On Easter Sunday, the eve of his death, I found the media handbook of his trip to the Philippines, a “premonition” as my wife, Marian, had called it of what was to happen given his current health condition.
 

Going through the treasure chest of memorabilia— the liturgical booklet, a media handbook and ID, and the decade-old story printed on the Manila Bulletin—of his apostolic visit to the Philippines reminded me that His Holiness had to cut short by four hours his visit to Tacloban City because of the bad weather.
 

I remembered whispering a prayer to myself, “Oh Lord, please don’t let anything bad happen to our beloved Pope. Not here, not now. Take care of him, please.”
 

When the pontiff’s plane was finally up in the air, I couldn't find the words to describe what I was feeling. I only knew he was already safe. “Our Pope was safe. God made this happen.”
 

It would have been easy for the pontiff to suspend, reschedule, or altogether cancel his trip to Tacloban City, given the inclement weather that made Vatican officials uneasy and anxious.
 

A predominantly Catholic country, the Philippines would have moved heaven and earth if Pope Francis said he would visit on a different time.
 

But by then, the pontiff said he was already “a little bit late” to mourning with and sympathizing with the victims of Typhoon Yolanda.
 

“I am here to be with you – a little bit late, but I’m here,” he said.

Pope Francis stepped out of the plane upon arrival at the Daniel Romualdez Airport, where he braved the chilly winds, the biting cold, and got drenched like all the rest. (Krizjohn Rosales/MANILA BULLETIN)

He really did come, I told myself. And now he is gone, leaving Filipinos with the memory of his five-day visit that brought hope once again for the hopeless, renewed the faith of the doubtful, embraced the downtrodden, and exemplified a Christ-like love that is humble, inclusive, merciful, and emphatic.
 

The faith that brought thousands of people who were left with nothing to the Daniel Romualdez Airport to hear the Holy Mass delivered by the Pope is the same faith that now delivers our beloved Lolo Kiko into the arms of our Father.