I don't recall hearing of Blessed Leonella until seeing this post from the Totus Tuus Fb page earlier today: "Shot four times in Somalia, she didn't curse her killers. Instead, with her dying breath, she whispered: 'I forgive… I forgive… I forgive.' Meet Blessed Leonella Sgorbati — the nun who turned hatred into mercy. Leonella was an Italian Consolata Missionary Sister who spent decades as a nurse and midwife in Africa, pouring out her life for mothers, babies, and the forgotten. She trained nurses in Kenya and bravely reopened a hospital in chaotic Mogadishu, Somalia, in 2006—bringing light where there was so much darkness. On September 17, 2006, extremists gunned her down outside the hospital gates. Shot four times, she staggered back inside and, instead of anger or fear, whispered three simple, powerful words: “I forgive… I forgive… I forgive.” Those were her last words on earth. Pope Francis declared her a martyr for the faith, and she was beatified in 2018. Her witness shows us that mercy isn't weakness—it's the strongest force against hatred. Blessed Leonella, teach us to forgive as you did, even when it hurts the most. Pray for peace in places of conflict, and for hearts that choose love over vengeance. Forgive someone today—start small if needed. Share her story with your family and friends to spread the light of forgiveness. "
From the Wikipedia page on Bl. Leonella: "On 17 September 2006 Sr. Sgorbati was gunned down outside her children's hospital just after 12:30 pm when she finished teaching and was crossing the road to go to the monastery, where three other sisters were waiting to have lunch with her. Her guard and driver Mohamed Osman Mahamud (a father of four) was also killed. The attack was believed to be in response to the controversial comments that Pope Benedict XVI had made in his Regensburg lecture. Several humanitarian workers and Christian volunteers were slain around this time. Two gunmen emerged from taxis and kiosks and shot her in the back three or four times after the first bullet hit her thigh. Her guard shielded her and was struck down after opening fire with the attackers. One bullet had entered her back and severed an artery which caused a severe and instant hemorrhage. Sgorbati was rushed to the SOS Hospital but later died there on the operating table. Her final words were "I forgive; I forgive; I forgive" which she whispered to Sr. Marzia Feurra."
Prayer to ask for the intercession of Blessed Leonella: O God the Father, who through your Spirit work in every people whatever culture or religion they belong to, look with loving compassion on humanity, often without peace and fragile in forgiveness. Through the intercession of Blessed Leonella Sgorbati, “faithful and joyful disciple of the gospel” who shed her blood for love of you and those most in need; give us to be credible witnesses of your mercy and grant us the grace we ask of you… Through Jesus Christ, our Lord, model and origin of all martyrdom. Amen Painting by Turin artist Leonardo Girardi for the Beatification of Sr. Leonella Sgorbati in May 2018.
Thank you for sharing. I just sent it to my family- her smile reminds me of my sister in law- she had a very similar smile. And a forgiving heart. There is no doubt in my mind that she forgave and wants all our family to forgive the drunk driver who killed her and so severely hurt my wife and I. I know that I was able to forgive her not in way shape ir form because if my own power. It was 100% because of grace God gave me/ in my mind that is a bigger miracle than the physical saving of my life. I am convinced that none of us can truly forgive without the gift of grace and mercy from Christ. I am moved to tears to read about this saint - I pray for her intercession that this grace continues to pour over me and my children so they too can forgive this young lady in jail now. God is Good
Thanks Mike, Blessed Leonella seems to be a beautiful soul. Very glad to learn about her too. May God continue to bring healing to you and your family and may we all receive the Grace to open our hearts and forgive.
Lord, you give yourself to me in the Eucharist, I give myself to you forever, for every moment: Jesus son, Jesus love, Holy Spirit, Motherhood of God, pervade me, permeate me. Jesus Lord, reciprocity of love, You give me your body, your blood and I give you all of myself, my body, my blood, my total being. I am yours. From the Diary of Sister Leonella, February 18, 2006
Thank you Dave..another beautiful soul to ask help from. Her smile reminds me of Sister Clare. I will be saying this prayer, just did in fact, for much needed help for family. There is always something to pray for. She sounds incredible.
She does indeed Agnes, I've been reading a bit more about her and her courage and forgiveness shine through.
https://www.consolatamissionarysist...is-two-lives-interconnected-by-the-eucharist/ Saint Carlo Acutis and Blessed Leonella Sgorbati connected by their Love of the Eucharist.
From a recent post on X by Mark Lambert of Catholic Unscripted: "Shot four times in Mogadishu, she did not cry out in rage. With her final breath she spoke three times, quietly and deliberately, “I forgive.” This was Blessed Leonella Sgorbati, an Italian Consolata Missionary Sister who gave her life not in theory but in long fidelity. For decades she served in Africa as a nurse and midwife, forming local healthcare workers, strengthening fragile systems, and standing beside mothers and children whose lives were precarious and easily forgotten. Her vocation was not dramatic. It was patient, incarnational, and deeply Catholic. In 2006 she returned to Mogadishu, reopening a hospital amid violence and instability. She chose presence over safety, service over retreat. On 17 September that year, extremists ambushed her outside the hospital gates. Gravely wounded, she managed to stagger back inside. There, instead of denunciation, she uttered a trinitarian cadence of mercy: “I forgive… I forgive… I forgive.” These were her last words on earth. Her death was not an accident of geopolitics but a participation in the logic of the Gospel. The Church recognised this when Pope Francis confirmed her martyrdom and she was beatified in 2018. In her we see that forgiveness is not sentimental weakness but metaphysical strength. It is the refusal to allow evil the final word. It is an assertion that grace is more real than violence. In an age that confuses vengeance with justice and outrage with courage, Blessed Leonella offers a more demanding anthropology. The human person, even when violated, retains the capacity to choose mercy. Forgiveness does not deny evil. It overcomes it. If faith is to be credible, it must be visible at the hour of trial. Her witness challenges us. Whom do we still refuse to forgive. Where do we allow resentment to calcify into identity. Blessed Leonella Sgorbati, pray for us. Teach us that the Gospel is strongest not when it dominates, but when it forgives."
Another saint I had never heard off before! So capable, holy and good, so forgiving. I struggle with dark thoughts about Islam. I must not be bitter, but on the other hand we must be realistic about what we are up against . I see there is a new film about the 21 Coptic Martyrs:
Yes, we definitely have to be realistic about what we're up against and I suppose there can be a very understandable feeling that to forgive something awful is in a way diminishing the seriousness of it or somehow letting them get away with the wrongdoing. The last few lines of the above post by Mark Lambert address that well, I think: "The human person, even when violated, retains the capacity to choose mercy. Forgiveness does not deny evil. It overcomes it. If faith is to be credible, it must be visible at the hour of trial. Her witness challenges us. Whom do we still refuse to forgive. Where do we allow resentment to calcify into identity. Blessed Leonella Sgorbati, pray for us. Teach us that the Gospel is strongest not when it dominates, but when it forgives." We remember also the powerful images of Pope St. John Paul II forgiving his would-be assassin, Mehmet Ali Agca, and visiting him in prison. Lord, help us to forgive.
Pope Benedict XVI speaks about Blessed Leonella in his Angelus address at Castel Gandolfo, the week after she was killed. BENEDICT XVI ANGELUS Castel Gandolfo Sunday, 24 September 2006 "Dear Brothers and Sisters, In this Sunday's Gospel, for the second time Jesus proclaims his passion, death and Resurrection to the disciples (cf. Mk 9: 30-31). The Evangelist Mark highlights the strong contrast between his mindset and that of the Twelve Apostles, who not only do not understand the Teacher's words and clearly reject the idea that he is doomed to encounter death (cf. Mk 8: 32), but also discuss which of them is to be considered "the greatest" (Mk 9: 34). Jesus patiently explains his logic to them, the logic of love that makes itself service to the point of the gift of self: "If anyone would be first, he must be last of all and servant of all" (Mk 9: 35). This is the logic of Christianity, which responds to the truth about man created in the image of God, but at the same time contrasts with human selfishness, a consequence of original sin. Every human person is attracted by love - which ultimately is God himself - but often errs in the concrete ways of loving; thus, an originally positive tendency but one polluted by sin can give rise to evil intentions and actions. In today's Liturgy, this is also recalled in the Letter of St James: "Wherever jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there will be disorder and every vile practice. But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, without uncertainty or insincerity". And the Apostle concludes: "The harvest of righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace" (Jas 3: 16-18). These words call to mind the witness of so many Christians who humbly and silently spend their lives serving others for the sake of the Lord Jesus, behaving in practice as servants of love, and hence, "artisans" of peace. Sometimes, certain people are asked for the supreme testimony of blood, which also happened a few days ago to the Italian Religious, Sr Leonella Sgorbati, who died a victim of violence. This Sister, who served the poor and the lowly in Somalia for many years, died with the words "I forgive" on her lips: this is the most genuine Christian witness, a peaceful sign of contradiction that demonstrates the victory of love over hatred and evil. There is no doubt that following Christ is difficult, but, as he says, only those who lose their life for his sake and the Gospel's will save it (cf. Mk 8: 35), giving full meaning to their existence. There is no other way of being his disciples, there is no other way of witnessing to his love and striving for Gospel perfection. May Mary, whom we call upon today as Our Lady of Mercy, open our hearts ever wider to the love of God, a mystery of joy and holiness. I wish you all a good Sunday.'
I continue to be marveled by this saint which you brought to my awareness in a time of my life where I am reflecting and writing of my experience. No where near this wonderful saint who was willfully murderd , my situation was bad choice. I need to read more about her. Thank you for sharing. As ive shared im outting my thoughts down on my story- it helps me heal but i hope it helps my kids and others who have suffered any i justice This is another rough chapter... A Year Later: Mercy in the Courtroom One year after the accident, Alyce and I found ourselves walking—slowly, painfully—into a Virginia courtroom for the sentencing of the young woman who had hit us. She was twenty‑four years old. Very drunk. Alone. And responsible for the crash that shattered our bodies and took Maryellen’s life. I knew almost nothing about her beyond what I had heard in court. She had pled guilty to hitting us. She pled no contest to killing Maryellen. Legally, it carried the same weight, but something about it felt wrong. It felt incomplete. It felt like a truth left unspoken. And yet, despite all of this, neither Alyce nor I ever felt anger toward her. That surprised me. It still does. I am not naturally inclined toward mercy. If someone wrongs me, my instinct is to want justice—sometimes even revenge. But something happened in the months leading up to the sentencing. Something I cannot explain except as grace. A gift from God. A softening of the heart that was not my doing. As we entered the courtroom, I remembered what my children had told me from earlier hearings: she had no family there. No one to sit beside her. No one to speak on her behalf. No one to hold her hand. She was utterly alone. That does not excuse drunk driving. But it does reveal a kind of suffering. A kind of hell she must have been living in long before she ever got behind the wheel. When she read her statement, her voice trembled. She said she was sorry. She said she hoped that “one day we will not see her as the monster we see her today.” I shook my head gently. I did not see a monster. I saw a broken human being, loved by God, just as I am. Alyce and I took the stand and testified about our injuries. My two daughters, their cousin, and Peter spoke about the grief of losing Maryellen. It was emotional, raw, and honest. And then I read the statement I had written for Judge Robbins — a statement about pain, loss, faith, and forgiveness. A statement that said clearly: I forgive her. Not because the pain was small, but because the love of Christ is greater. Forgiveness did not erase justice. But it freed my heart from hate. Before the hearing began, something unexpected happened. Alyce and I met the police officers who had been on the scene that night. As we hobbled toward them with our walkers, I saw their faces change. Their eyes filled with tears. Mine did too. When we reached them, we embraced, and something in me broke open. Gratitude. Relief. Reverence. These men were our heroes. One of them told me, in a choked voice, that he had been certain there were three fatalities that night. He never expected to see me walking again. He shared details of the crash that confirmed I had done everything possible to avoid it. He also told me that somehow, despite my injuries, I had been alert enough on the scene to speak and explain where I was pinned. I will never forget these men or what they did for us—and for our children in those early hours at the hospital. After the sentencing, the emotional day continued. We met with the EMS crews who were first on the scene. I was able to look into the eyes of the man who pulled me from the car, who stabilized me, who helped save my life. I told them all the only words I had: Thank you. It felt small compared to what they had done, but it was all I had to give. That day in court, and the moments before and after it, became a kind of spiritual seal on the year that had passed. A year of pain. A year of healing. A year of grace. A year of learning that forgiveness is not weakness, but freedom. A year of discovering that God’s mercy is not theoretical — it is lived, breathed, and offered in the hardest places. I walked into that courtroom with a broken body. I walked out with a healed heart.
Your words gave me the chills. They always do . You speak from the heart. I've learned over the years that I cannot afford to carry a grudge, even if it was a righteous one. My heart burned and I felt ill. But when I prayed for that person, I asked God, please grant this person the same love and happiness that I would wish for myself. It seems impossible at first. But we say the words. And we say them again, until we finally mean them. Our heart feels new . Our stomach unclenches. We can love fully. You really have such a way with words. Thank u Mike. You are an inspiration .
