This was a man who had faced the greatest evils of which we are capable and the entire spectrum of human suffering: from his parents dying at an early age, to living through the horrors of the Nazi slaughter in his native Poland, through the alienation of the successing Communist regime. He battled a gunshot wound-- received not during wartime, but at his own home in the Vatican. He fought the war between good and evil while his body fought the war of Parkinson's. Yet, he never despaired. This was a man who loved to ski, who loved the mountains, who loved beauty with a passion which I have never seen an equal. This was a man who saw God in all the created world. He saw God in man.