It was as I sat at a friends house in Borgo Vittorio, just a few streets from St Peters, that I heard the bell toll. There had been so many false alarms over the last few days, but the heaviness of this ring was different decisive. It was the sign for us go to St Peters, and we followed the slow and peaceful current of people towards the square. Weaving between cameras, carabinieri and candles, I managed to stand on the ledge of a colonnade and cast my eyes over the hundreds of thousands of people there. What an uplifting vision and atmosphere there was not of solemnity in the silence, but of joy; not of despair in the face of death but of rejoicing and of new beginnings. Good Friday, with nails being driven into Jesus hands and feet, is what life is too often like; but here, there was an Easter feeling in this image of community, friendship and love that we were created for.