By Parrot Newspaper 
You’re Gonna Be the Pope”: Childhood Tease Becomes Reality for Leo XIV
By Ricky Awodi|Parrot Newspaper
“My brother’s the Pope. You’re kidding me.”
That was the first thought that raced through Prevost’s mind when the news broke. The sheer absurdity of it—his youngest brother, the Pope—left him reeling. “It was crazy, ridiculous. My mind was blown out of this world,” he admits, the initial shock still vivid in his memory.
But now, as the dust settles, reality sets in. Pope Leo XIV isn’t just his brother anymore. He’s the leader of 1.3 billion Catholics, a figurehead wrapped in centuries of tradition and protocol. And for Prevost, that raises a question both simple and profound: What happens to us now?
“He’s Still There—But Out of Reach”
The excitement hasn’t faded, but it’s tinged with uncertainty. “This could be bad for the family,” Prevost muses. “Will we ever see him again? Talk to him like brothers? Or will it always be, ‘How are you, Holy Father? Blah, blah, blah.’” He mimics a stiff, formal tone, then sighs. “It opens up a lot of questions.”
The logistics alone are daunting. No more casual phone calls. No dropping by for a beer. “He’s still there, but he’s out of reach,” Prevost says. “Now, calling him has to be special. You don’t just dial up the Pope.”
He’s counting on his other brother, John, to bring back answers after an upcoming visit to Rome. Until then, the family is left navigating this surreal new normal—one where their sibling’s face is splashed across global headlines, his every word dissected by millions
A Pope for Peace?
Despite the personal adjustments, Prevost believes his brother’s papacy could be transformative. He’s seen Leo’s gift for mediation firsthand: “I’ve watched him take two warring parties and make peace in five minutes. He connects with people—makes them open their eyes.”
Could that translate to global conflicts? “Who knows?” Prevost shrugs. “Gaza, Russia and Ukraine… but if anyone can help, it’s him.”
He’s especially hopeful for the Catholic Church in America. For the first time, the Pope isn’t a distant figure speaking in Latin or Italian. “When he visits the U.S., he’ll speak English,” Prevost grins. “People will understand him. They’ll see he’s one of us.”
The Brother Behind the Robes
At its heart, this isn’t just a story about the Vatican. It’s about a family grappling with pride, distance, and the weight of history. Prevost’s laughter fades as he admits, “I miss him already.”
But then he smiles. “Still… my brother’s the Pope. How wild is that?”
If ever there was a moment when life felt stranger than fiction, Louis Prevost just lived it.
From a sun-soaked porch in sleepy Port Charlotte, Florida, Louis still can’t quite wrap his head around the words: “My little brother is the Pope.” Not just any pope—but Pope Leo XIV, the very first American to lead the Catholic Church in its nearly 2,000-year history. And to Louis, well, it’s a twist of fate that feels both unbelievable and, somehow, always inevitable.
“We always teased him as kids,” Louis says, grinning as though he’s replaying a favorite home movie. “We’d say, ‘You’re gonna be the Pope one day!’ He hated it. But even then, even when he was six… something about him just knew.”
You could say Robert Francis Prevost was born into a quiet calling. While other kids played superheroes or cowboys, little Robert preferred something more sacred. Louis remembers their backyard games vividly—Robert playing priest, using Necco wafers as pretend communion, solemnly offering them to the neighborhood kids with a reverence that made even their roughest playmates go quiet.
It sounds like a scene from a coming-of-age film, but for the Prevosts, it was just another Saturday.
“He was different,” Louis says now. “Not in a strange way. In a set-apart way.”
And that difference, that gentle seriousness, followed Robert all the way from their modest Chicago roots to the grand marble halls of the Vatican. Louis chuckles, shaking his head slowly, still in awe. “We all thought he’d be a priest. Maybe a bishop, if the stars lined up. But Pope?” He pauses, letting the word hang in the air, heavy with disbelief.
A Historic Moment, a Family Affair
On the day the white smoke rose from the chimney of the Sistine Chapel, the world held its breath. But in Port Charlotte, one man sat very still, the tension knotting in his chest.
“I had this feeling,” Louis recalls. “A nervous, electric kind of feeling. I told my wife, ‘It’s him. I think it’s going to be him.’ And when they said his name… Lord.”
He reenacts it with a smile: sitting on the edge of his bed, heart racing, eyes wide, then exploding with joy. “I thought I was going to faint.”
From Backyard Altar to Papal Throne
The story of Pope Leo XIV isn’t just about the Catholic Church’s new global direction or the historic first of an American pontiff—it’s also a story of quiet faith, of the power of childhood dreams, and of family roots that run deep.
It’s about the kid who didn’t crave power, but purpose. The boy who saw divinity in simplicity and heard a calling so clear, even teasing siblings couldn’t drown it out.
Louis’s voice softens. “The Church didn’t just get a pope. They got someone who was born for this. Even if he didn’t want to believe it at six years old.”
The Bigger Picture
In a world where cynicism too often trumps belief, the rise of Pope Leo XIV feels like a rare moment of clarity—proof that vocation can still trump ambition, and that the quiet paths can lead to the loudest impact.
For Louis, it’s also a personal full-circle.
“When you’ve watched someone grow from Necco wafers to the Vatican, you realize… maybe nothing is impossible.”
And maybe, just maybe, some childhood jokes were prophecies in disguise.