VATICAN CITY — If you are ever graced with the opportunity to be in St. Peter’s Square when the white smoke billows out of the Sistine Chapel chimney, the moment your eyes lock onto the plume will be etched in memory throughout earthly life.

I stood under the piazza’s colonnade, sweaty and lugging my cumbersome duffle bag. It was only Day Two of the papal conclave, and already I was exhausted by the routine: come to St. Peter’s Square at the designated time, stand around waiting, and wait a lot longer than you expected. You end up telling roaming fellow reporters you don’t want to be interviewed. When you see the black smoke, everyone groans and goes home.

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