I stayed up into the early morning hours over the weekend because I was fascinated by the elaborate papal funeral pageantry that played out on my TV.

You have to give it to the church. Nobody, but nobody, does pomp and circumstance like the Vatican. If you stayed up or got up way too early, you watched quite a show as the cardinals, bishops, kings and presidents, and the faithful,  prayed, marched, processed, sang, preached and paraded through St. Peter's Square.

It was an elaborate pageant designed to honor the legacy of a man who practiced humanity and simplicity. Pope Francis was an old man who spurned the usual luxury of the ancient papal apartments in favor of a simple cell in a guest house with a bed, a desk and a chair, where, I have read, he sometimes cooked his supper and sometimes ate with the help.

This man shunned the trappings of royalty. He parked the usual Papal limo, a big black Mercedes Benz. For example, once, he pulled up to the White House gate in a little bitty Fiat. His casket rode to the crypt in a custom white Popemobile that looked like a Dodge Ram pickup.

Behind the ropes, the cardinals who will vote to choose the new leader of a billion or so Catholics were chatting about next week's conclave. We saw the leaders of different religious rites interacting and chatting like old pals talking shop. We are told many of these cardinals serve in remote locations around the globe and do not know one another.

We also saw leaders of nations that once gobbled up their neighbors make nice for the TV cameras. Over the centuries, Mother Nature has seen vast vats of blood spilled because Abel worshiped his version of God while Cain, his brother, went his own way. Many of these nations proclaim fidelity to the principles found on the pages of the Good Book. Yet, while the stories are the same, we have seen wars fought over this or that Biblical textual difference.

Given the history of centuries of religious and civil conflict, the funeral pageant for a man who chose to be known as Francis, a simple Pope who urged combatants to embrace peace, seemed even more meaningful.

For me, and many of TV's talking heads, the moment that personified the feeling of peaceful togetherness was when the president of the United States and the president of Ukraine pulled up a pair of elaborate chairs and sat down. There were no officious aides, no audience of myrmidons currying favor, no flowered tablecloths. There was no sparkling golden trim, no microphones catching every sentence of their chat, and no armed guards. Just two men talking and listening.

It was a remarkable sight, for, not long ago, we saw the same two men in the White House engaged in a shouting match as POTUS lectured the other ordering him to accept his version of a solution to a bloody war. Then, if you can believe what we all saw on TV, POTUS’ aides all but kicked him out the White House door.

Not so on Saturday. The two national leaders sat down, leaned over, and talked. Some said their chat lasted as long as 15 minutes. We don’t know what was spoken. We don't know who said what to whom. We don’t know anything for sure. What we do know is, for a moment in time, under the magnificent Vatican walls, two national leaders talked and, hopefully, listened to each other.

Will this exchange lead to the end of a terrible war? Could it change the map of Europe forever? Again, we don’t know for sure. But, for the first time, we saw these two leaders look each other in the eye and trade their thoughts and opinions. And, maybe, just maybe, it might be an historic moment.

As I sat on the couch, halfway around the world, sipping my early morning coffee, I watched the two men converse. I wondered if I was seeing the beginning of a peace process that has eluded the world.

It made me wonder if, somehow, the late Pope Francis, the simple peacemaker, arrived at the pearly gates waving at St. Peter with a hopeful smile on his face.