Shamin, a young Muslim some time ago wanted to write a letter to Pope Francis, but he could not find the words. Now they have flowed from his heart.
Shamin is the responsable of the non-profit volunteer association Pothoshishu Sheba Shongothon (P.S.S.), founded by Brother Lucio Beninati, whose purpose is to serve street children in Dhaka, the great capital metropolis of Bangladesh.
Dear Francis,
Now you rest in the sacred embrace of Allah. No sound of this world will reach you anymore. The noise has faded—but your voice still echoes in the hearts of those who listened. Two years ago, I wished to write you a letter. I held the thoughts close, but the words never came—until now.You were not just a man of the Church. You were a revolution of kindness. You shattered walls built by centuries of silence and fear. In your face, I saw the shadow of Jesus—gentle, bold, and full of mercy. You spoke fearlessly against injustice, inequality, war, capitalism, blind faith, and many importants matter. Your words, rich with compassion, reshaped history and stirred something sacred in all of us.
Dear Francis, your voice is deeply needed at this critical moment. The genocide in Gaza by Israel continues, and silence only empowers the oppressor. I am a Muslim, yet my heart grieves your passing like I’ve lost a brother. Why these tears? Because you spoke the universal language—the language of love, of solidarity, of generosity. That language knows no religion, only humanity.
In this moment, I remember a verse by Rumi:“When you see my corpse being carried,
Don’t cry for my leaving.
I am not leaving—
I am arriving at eternal love.”So, this letter pauses here—but not the feelings. I believe I’ll write to you again, with the same hope you once gave the world.
Your brother,
Shamim