In the days after Pope Francis’ death, Sister Geneviève Jeanningros captured hearts as she stepped past Vatican protocol to mourn by his coffin.

She wasn’t just another mourner; she had known Francis personally since 2005, when then-Archbishop Bergoglio helped her during the painful reburial of her aunt, a victim of Argentina’s dictatorship.Their bond deepened over the years, rooted in faith and inclusion. Geneviève often led LGBTQ+ groups to meet Francis, who welcomed them warmly — a rare gesture. Despite his failing health, he even traveled to Ostia last summer to visit her.

At the funeral, women weren’t allowed near the casket. But Geneviève, “heartbroken and determined,” quietly defied the rules. Standing by the coffin, she wiped away tears as the world watched — “a father, a friend, and a brother,” she said.She recalled introducing Francis to Laura Esquibel, a transgender woman, who shared, “I was the first trans woman to shake his hand… We had lunch together. I liked him a lot.”
Over 250,000 mourners visited the coffin, but it was the small, unscripted moments — “a grieving nun, a shared tear” — that best honored a pope whose legacy was love, defiance, and humanity.