A “Gangbanger’s” Journey to Sainthood—Meet Peter Armengol

St. Peter Armengol by Vincenzo Carducho

By Larry Peterson

Imagine being a dad with a teenage son who has seemingly turned his back on you. He has rejected the values you have worked so hard to instill in him and he does not seem to care about anything but his own selfish wants. You wonder how this could be.

He is 19 years old and you have not seen him in over a year. A sense of despair has gripped you. You are alone in your living room. You fall to your knees and begin to pray for your boy.

Besides your wife and fourteen-year-old daughter, you have other things on your mind. You are a respected Police Chief in a city of two million people where a major    political convention is scheduled to take place in two days. You have been asked by the Police Commissioner to coordinate the security forces on the perimeter of the convention center. You have a job to do and right now it takes precedence over other things.

At 6 p.m. on the first night of the convention, protesters begin massing on the east side of the center. You can see that they are well organized and plan to create mayhem. At 9 p.m. the crowd numbers several thousand and the screaming and yelling is getting intense. Suddenly, the crowd, urged on by several masked protesters, surges forward and then breaks into a charge.

Dressed in riot gear, you are standing at the forefront of your men and in your hand is a taser. One man is charging right at you when suddenly he stops short, falls to his knees, and drops his hands to his side. You hurry up to him and yank off his mask. You are stunned because you are looking down at your son. He is crying and telling you he is sorry. You lift him to you and you hug each other. The surging crowd, witnessing this unexpected turn of events, stops and becomes quiet.

Does that sound far-fetched?  If so, let us now travel back 700+ years to a day when something like this really did happen. And even though it may be 700 years ago, people then were like people now when it comes to their wants and needs and emotions and when it comes to family; especially when it comes to family.

Arnold Armengol was a member of the Spanish hierarchy. His son, Peter, in spite of being given the finest education and upbringing, rejected all of that and fell into the secular trap of self-centeredness, self-gratification, and outright debauchery. He even joined a band of criminals that preyed on people traveling up into the mountains. Peter was so good at this work he eventually became the gang leader.

His dad, part of the royal hierarchy, was asked by King Jaime of Aragon to lead him on a journey to Montpellier so he might meet with the King of France. The King had heard of the brigands that preyed on mountain travelers and wanted to be prepared for this.

As Arnold Armengol led the King’s entourage through the mountain passes they were attacked by a band of highwaymen. As the robbers charged toward them. Armengol led his men in a counterattack. With his sword drawn he headed directly to the leader of the pack. They were about to engage each other when the robber fell to his knees. He had recognized his father and with tears streaming down his face, prostrated himself at the feet of his dad and handed over his sword.

Peter Armengol, repentant and seeking mercy, appealed to King James I and received a pardon. He was filled with shame and, heeding the graces offered to him by God, entered a Mercedarian Monastery in Barcelona. The mission of the Mercedarians, founded by St. Peter Nolasco, was to ransom Catholics captured by the Muslims. Peter excelled at this task and, over a period of eight years, managed to negotiate the freedom of many hostages from the Saracens.

Friar Peter then headed to Africa with Friar William Florentino. His goal was to ransom Christians. On arrival in a place called Bugia, he heard about 18 Christian children held hostage by the Mohammedans. They were under the threat of death if they did not renounce Christianity. Friar Peter offered himself in exchange for the hostages. The captors agreed but warned Peter that if the ransom was not paid on time he would suffer brutal torture and death.

The arrival of the agreed ransom and Friar Peter’s release were scheduled for a certain day. The ransom never arrived. Peter was immediately put to torture and endured this for days on end. The Moors, tired of Friar Peter being alive, accused him of blaspheming Mohammad. He was sentenced to be hanged.

Friar Peter was hanged from a tree. His body was left there for the birds of prey to feed on. Six days later Friar William arrived with the ransom. The Moors refused it and told Friar William that Peter was already dead for six days and his rotted corpse was still hanging from the tree. Distraught, William went to recover his brother Mercedarian’s body.

William left and headed to the execution site. As he approached he noticed that Peter’s body seemed to be intact. In fact, there was a fragrance of flowers in the air. William slowly approached the body of Peter. The man who was supposedly dead for six days began to speak. He explained how the Blessed Virgin had come to him and was holding  him up with her precious hands so his body would not hang on the rope.

Peter Armengol, when recalling the miracle of his hanging, told his Mercedarian brothers that the happiest days of his life were those six days that he hung from the gallows supported by the Blessed Virgin Mary. Peter’s neck, broken from the hanging, remained in a twisted position for the rest of his life and he always had a sickly complexion. Seven documented miracles were attributed to him while he was still alive.

Peter Armengol was canonized a saint on April 8, 1687 by Pope Innocent XI. On this Father’s Day we might also remember how his dad, Arnold Armengol, prayed unceasingly for the safe return of his son. His prayers were surely answered,  a lesson for us all.

copyright©Larry Peterson 2018 (originally 2016)

 

 

 

 

Blessed Maria Bolognesi; Mystic, Stigmatist, Visionary, and Victim of the Demonic

Blessed Maria Bolognesi
en.wikipedia.org

By Larry Peterson

On October 21, 1924, an out-of-wedlock child was born and given the name, Maria. At the time, Maria was not assigned a surname. That was because her birth father, (himself an illegitimate child) refused to wed Maria’s mother and left her. Fortunately for Maria, the most influential person in young girl’s life would be her grandma, Cornetto Cesira. She taught Maria all she could about God and Jesus and religion. Five years later, Maria’s mom married Giuseppe Bolognesi, and Maria was given her step-father’s’name.

When Maria was eight-years-old, she and her mom contracted meningitis. Her mom was close to death from the dreaded illness. Maria, who had begun to recover,  was preparing for her First Holy Communion. The nun that was teaching her told her that Jesus would grant her a wish if she asked Him. She wished her mom would get better and she fully recovered from the disease.

Filled with emotion and love for Jesus, Maria made her First Communion on May 22, 1932. In her diary they found written; “I cried with joy. Finally, my little heart also carries Eucharistic Jesus. I asked for so many, many graces: to love everyone, even my enemies. I came home, other families would have lunch at their homes, but at my home, there was nothing to eat, but still, I was so so happy.”

From June 21, 1940, to April 1, 1942, Maria exhibited strange behavior, and many have attested this was due to demonic possession. She could not approach church buildings or any other religious buildings. Holy water was repulsive to her. Once, as she arrived at the bridge that spanned the river leading to the church, people with her saw her skirt being pulled from behind as Maria fought to move forward. There was no wind blowing at the time, yet she could not move forward.

Maria also began sweating blood, suffered from pneumonia, ophthalmia (extreme dryness of the eyes and loss of tears), pinworms, anemia, vomiting, sciatica, chronic laryngitis, and rheumatism. She also developed heart problems. Doctors were completely baffled by the number of afflictions the teenager was experiencing. Although suffering greatly she gave it over to Jesus, sharing herself with Him.

Maria received her first vision of Jesus Christ during Holy Week of 1942. It was Holy Thursday, April 2, when He appeared to her and gave her three rings with five rubies, the rings representing the Trinity, and the rubies representing His five wounds. Jesus promised her she would learn how to read and that her mother would repent of her sins and return to the church. On April 11, with the permission of her spiritual advisor, Father Bassiano Paiato, she began wearing the black habit.

Besides having to endure much pain and suffering throughout the 1940s, Maria also had those who began ridiculing her and mocking her “fake” visions. Among them were different clergy. On March 5, 1948, three criminals attacked her and beat her, tied her up, gagged her and left her bleeding in the snow. Because of some of the ridicule that had been heaped upon this servant of Jesus, the police at first did not believe her and accused her of “faking” the attack to garner attention. They were quickly proved wrong, and all charges against her were absolved.

Toward the end of the 1940s, Maria began to suffer from arthritis, colitis, developed appendicitis, and almost became blind. She would be taken to Rovigo and Padua for treatment and while there, would assist taking care of the orphans and visit the sick in the hospitals. On January 25, 1954, a wound opened up on her right hand. It was the beginning of the stigmata appearing on Maria. In August of 1954, the wounds appeared on Maria’s feet and on Good Friday, 1955, she received the wound on her left side. The time was exactly 3 p.m.

Maria Bolognesi suffered from serious physical ailments her entire life. Jesus appeared to her at different times showing her Heaven several times and, in November of 1957, both  Heaven and Purgatory. Her first heart attack occurred in 1971. It is said the Padre Pio, even after his passing in 1968, would appear to her in bilocation whenever she stayed in Rovigo. On January 30, 1980, Maria Bolognesi passed away.

Maria was beatified on May 2, 2013. Pope Francis was quoted as saying, “Blessed Maria Bolognesi spent her life in service to others, especially the poor and sick, enduring great suffering in profound union with the passion of Christ. We give thanks to God for her testimony to the Gospel!”

Blessed Maria Bolognesi, please pray for us.

copyright©LarryPeterson 2018

Are the Widowed Still Married or No longer Married? Widowed Catholics have Different Viewpoints

 

 

journeysthrugrief.wordpress.com

By Larry Peterson

We have come to know and believe in the love God has for us. God is love, and whoever remains in love remains in God and God in Him.”

The above quote from 1 John 4:16 led me to write what follows. It is a profound and beautiful quote and we should all try to remember it.

I have gone from being a husband to being a widower; twice.  My first wife, Loretta, died of cancer in 2003. My second wife, Marty, died from Alzheimer’s disease in March of 2017. What is interesting is how we, the widowed, perceive our widowhood.  I have discovered that some who have been widowed, both men and women, still consider themselves married. Some, like me, do not. Why is that?

Grief and loneliness are not fleeting, emotional upheavals. Contrary to what some of the experts might say, you never “get over it.” When a man and a woman have shared their lives with each other, given of themselves to each other, cared for each other and loved each other—in good times and in bad—it is a beautiful thing. It is how God planned it.

The married couple, especially those acknowledging God as their unifying, foundational support, become a new family. The man complements the woman; The woman complements the man; together they become one.

When the death of one of the spouses occurs, the one left behind oftentimes may feel completely deserted. There is a part of them missing. Feeling lost and alone no one, even your own children, cannot take away that feeling of being forsaken. Instead of  “getting over it” the widowed person begins a process.

Each and every one of us is unique and have our own way of dealing with the loss. We take our grief and loneliness and slowly begin placing it somewhere inside ourselves. The common denominator for the widowed is this: it takes time, lots of time.

Enter the quote at the beginning of this essay. As a man who is rooted in his Catholic faith, those words within the quote of, “God is Love,” explains (at least for me) what the death separation means. I know that both of my wives were women of faith and that they received the last rites.

I was married twice. Both times in the church. Therefore, when Loretta passed away, I became unmarried. ( I never thought of being  “unmarried” nor of getting married “again.” It just happened). My meeting Marty was unplanned and unexpected. But then I began to see the hand of God in all of this. Stay with me now.

Loretta is always a part of me. She lives on in my mind, heart, and soul. I was with her when she received the Anointing of the Sick.  Marty will always be a part of me and lives on within me also. I was with her when she received the Anointing of the Sick.  I loved them both but in different ways. It was amazing to discover this. God had taken Loretta who became embraced by eternal Love. Fourteen years later, God took Marty, who is now, also embraced by eternal Love.

From the bible quote, it all becomes crystal clear how this works. And it is beautiful. If God is Love and my spouses are with HIM (and I know that they are because all the power of the Church was bestowed on both of them at their hours of death), all they now know is LOVE.

Un-canonized saints, I can talk (pray) to them, and I know all they can do is Love me and want the best for me.  There can be no anger or envy or avarice or jealousy or anything like that in the Love world. I may remain a widowed man or I may not. I have no idea. Whatever way the Spirit moves me I leave it all to Him. I know I am in Good Hands.

There is the old cliché of, “it is better to have loved and lost—“ I have wondered about that because the lost part can really hurt. But, since I do know that God is Love, I would do it again.

 

 

 

 

Introducing “Anyone but Him” by Theresa Linden: A Christian-Mystery-Romance that will rivet you to your seat

Anyone But Him

A New Adult Mystery Romance

Theresa Linden

Caitlyn Summer had always followed the straight and narrow path. Her perfect husband would love Jesus more than her and love her because of her love for Jesus. He would be faithful and gentle and have a heart for others. So how did she end up marrying the bad boy who got her high school best friend pregnant then pressured her to abort?

Unable to remember the past three years or understand why she would’ve moved so far from home, Caitlyn can’t believe she willingly married such an overprotective, bossy, and jealous man. In this emotionally-charged, new adult mystery romance, ANYONE BUT HIM, Caitlyn struggles to solve the mysteries of her amnesia and her marriage. Suspicious circumstances surrounding her husband tempt her to leave and start life over, but they also challenge her Christian faith and convictions.

The arrival of her first love, her husband’s younger brother, intent on helping her regain her memory, offers a glimmer of hope. Together they uncover secrets involving her coworkers and the local abortion clinic, but nothing to explain why she married this man. Who changed – him or her?

Links:

The book is available in hardback, paperback, and Kindle:

https://www.amazon.com/Anyone-But-Him-Theresa-Linden/dp/0997674741

Author website: www.theresalinden.com

FB: https://www.facebook.com/theresalindenauthor/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/LindenTheresa

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7537721.Theresa_Linden

Book trailer: https://youtu.be/A-R_7IagmV0

Author Bio:

Theresa Linden is the author of award-winning Catholic teen fiction. Raised in a military family, she developed a strong patriotism and a sense of adventure. Her Catholic faith inspires the belief that there is no greater adventure than the reality we can’t see, the spiritual side of life. She has six published novels, and two short stories in Image and Likeness: Literary Reflections on the Theology of the Body (Full Quiver Publishing). She holds a Catechetical Diploma from Catholic Distance University and is a member of the Catholic Writers Guild and the International Writers Society. A wife, homeschooling mom, and Secular Franciscan, she resides in northeast Ohio with her husband and three teenage boys.

Review Blurbs:

“The author has a lot of elements going on in this story – mystery, romance, amnesia, and a pro-life message. How she intertwines and weaves all these pieces together is perfection.” ~Leslea Wahl, author of award-winning The Perfect Blindside

“Anyone But Him had me hooked from the start! Theresa Linden unravels the mystery layer by layer as Caitlyn questions whom to trust, who has changed, and how an unfinished investigation may be the key to it all. Told through Caitlyn’s eyes, Anyone But Him will keep you doubting, guessing – and maybe even falling in love – alongside her.” ~Carolyn Astfalk, author of inspirational romance Stay With Me

Truly an extraordinary ministry: I am an EMHC and I am honored to be one

EMHCs and Holy Communion           flickr/Utah Knights

By Larry Peterson

I wish to clarify something right away. I am NOT a Eucharistic Minister. I am an Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion (EMHC). Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion is the proper term for the people involved in this ministry. The term, “Eucharist” is never to be in their title. That term is reserved for the priest alone. (see Redemptionis Sacramentum).

I have been involved in many ministries over the years and have been an EMHC for 23 years. For me, nothing can compare to being an EMHC. It is all about Jesus, the person receiving Jesus, and you being the one who has brought them together. It does not get any better than that.

I rarely miss a visit to my homebound friends. As of this writing, I visit nine (9) every Sunday. Five of them are in their nineties. Honestly, it makes my day. Ironically, it makes their day too, (and sometime their week)  because they hardly see anyone during the week except home-health aides and folks like that.  All I come with is a smile, a church bulletin, maybe a prayer card and, of course, their BEST FRIEND.

I have a journaling book, and in the back, I have compiled names of people I have brought Holy Communion to over the years. I want to share a few of these folks with you. These are Catholic people who have lived their Catholic lives to the best of their ability. Many of them were children during the Great Depression and lived through World War II and into the 21st century. Like my friend, George B.

George was in the U.S. Navy and stationed in London in 1940 during the Blitzkrieg. He survived that, came home and wound up at Pearl Harbor. He was there on December 7, 1941, when the Japanese attacked. He and a Marine corporal manned a 50 caliber machine gun and shot down two Japanese Zeroes. The two of them then proceeded to pull men out of the burning water near the USS Arizona.

After the war, he was in the circus for over 20 years. George died several years ago at the age of 97. I loved his stories. He was a walking history book, and he would get all animated when he was telling you about his adventures. I brought him Communion every Sunday for more than two years. What an honor that was.

There was Anne S. She was 90 and would be dressed to the “T” every Sunday when I arrived. She would ask, “Why does God keep me here, Larry?”

“Anne,” I would say. “He needs Prayer Warriors. That’s what you are, and that’s why you are here. There are many souls in Purgatory. They need your help.”

She would always smile and point to her Rosary and her prayer books on the table next to her. She would point to them and say, “Yes, I know. I do keep busy.” Recruiting “prayer warriors” is an important part of what I do. Anne has been gone for five years.

And my little pal, Scotty Walker. He was a St. Jude baby because of a tumor on his brain stem. That was in 1977 when he was only two years old. He was now 25. Only 4 feet, 4 inches tall; he started his own lawn service when he was about 17.

Scotty wore a big straw hat, and his nose would be just above the lawn mower handle as he pushed it along. At the same time, he was studying for his GED. He worked his tail off until he could not any longer. I brought him Communion every Sunday during the last two years of his life. He died in 2002 when he was 27.

I have been blessed to be part of this ministry. I have seven people who received their Viaticum from me. It was not planned that way—it just happened. I pray to each of them all the time. I have on my list over 40 people who have passed on, including both my wives (one died in 2003 and the other in 2017).

I would suggest you look into being part of this ministry.  You get to leave the church with Jesus in your pocket and then, just you and He, get to go visiting His homebound or hospitalized people. It is a beautiful thing.

copyright©Larry Peterson 2018

 

 

 

 

 

My Son’s Wedding proved to me that “ONE, HOLY, CATHOLIC, and APOSTOLIC” is the perfect description for our Church

Larry & Philomena Peterson married 2/17/2018

By Larry Peterson

We define the Catholic Church as “One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic” church. But when you witness those words coming to life right before your own eyes, it is an experience you will never forget.

My oldest son had been married in the Catholic Church once but due to unforeseen circumstances was granted an annulment. He married again on February 17. I freely admit; I had my doubts about this wedding. But I had forgotten something; I had forgotten this was a Catholic thing. I had also forgotten about the HOLY Sacrifice of the Mass.

When I arrived at Most Holy Name of Jesus Catholic Church in Gulfport, FL, I was still feeling doubtful about what was about to happen. But something was different this time. I had not yet put my finger on it.

The pastor of Holy Name of Jesus Church was a man from Kenya. He was a man of color and had been ordained in Kenya. His name was Father George Iregi. This day would be the first time he and I had met. About a third of the congregation was also people from Kenya.

The church was filling up, and the only the people I knew were those in my immediate family. In the back of us, occupying the next two pews were elderly nuns, Benedictine Sisters who lived in the monastery of St. Leo University about 40 miles north near Tampa, FL. Oh yes, the bride, my about to be daughter-in-law, was Father George’s sister, Philomena. She had lived with  the Benedictines while she was studying for her degree (She had just received her Master’s Degree in Education).

The rest were parishioners of Holy Name parish, friends of Father George. It suddenly dawned on me that there was a common denominator among all of us. Whatever our skin color was (the word ‘diverse” fit perfectly), we were all CATHOLIC, and we all would be attending Mass together as ONE congregation. Skin color was irrelevant.

Father George had made arrangements for his parents to fly here from Kenya. They had never been out of Kenya and were in their late 70s. It was to be a surprise for his sister who had not seen them in three years while she was in school. And  surprised she was.

Father George walked out into the sanctuary accompanied by Father Daniel Bowen, a Mercedarian priest who is stationed at my parish of Sacred Heart. Father Daniel had taken Jr. and Philomena through their marriage preparations (APOSTOLIC) and would perform the wedding ceremony. Father George would be the celebrant of the Mass and Father Daniel would concelebrate.

Everyone stood as the bride, with her mom and dad at her sides, began to walk down the aisle. The Kenyan wedding dress that Philomena wore was something I could not have imagined. It was absolutely beautiful with its display of colors and a  headpiece that looked like a crown. They exchanged vows, and the intensity between them was pronounced. I believe everyone could feel that they meant every word they said to each other.

During the Mass, the diverse congregation sat, stood, and knelt in unison when appropriate. The Sign of the Cross was made by all when required. Even though many of us did not speak the same language, our Catholic faith united us all.

The wedding reception was attended by white Americans and dark-skinned Kenyans. We prayed together, ate together, laughed together and danced together. They served Kenyan food alongside Chicken Parmigiana and pasta. Much of the music was Kenyan, and some were standard pop and contemporary. The fact was, it was a wonderful wedding reception.

The significance of this marital union and the joining of such diverse families did not fully impact me until the next morning. And once again it was the Mass that framed the moment. February 18 is the anniversary of my mom’s death. She died 57 years ago, and the 8 a.m. Mass was being offered for her. I am an usher at that Mass, and since I did not expect anyone from my family to be there, I was planning to get someone to assist me in bringing up the gifts.

At 7:00 a.m., I received a text message from Jr. He and his new wife had decided to attend that Mass. They did not know it was for his grandma, a woman he had never even seen. The tears welled up as I watched  my  caucasian son walk with his Kenyan bride down the aisle with the gifts to be offered at his grandma’s anniversary Mass.  The message for me was clear; “Everything is okay, Larry. Congratulations.

Being Catholic is truly a beautiful thing. But for human pride, it actually could unite the entire world.

copyright©LARRY PETERSON 2018

Cardinal Merry del Val—He not only was chosen by Pope St. Pius X to be “his Cardinal” , he also penned the Litany of Humility which he said every day after Mass.

Cardinal Merry del Val              en.wikipeida.org

By Larry Peterson

The definition of a litany: a prayer consisting of a series of invocations and supplications by the leader with alternate responses by the congregation.

We Catholics have many litanies we can turn to in time of need. However, there is one Litany we do not hear used much. I believe it is among the most beautiful in the list of Litanies we have available to us. It is the Litany of Humility. And most folks attribute it to the pen of the most humble of all cardinals, Merry del Val

From the Litany of Humility: “That  others may be praised and I unnoticed, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.”

Rafael Merry del Val y Zuelta was the second of four sons born to Carlos Merry del Valas and  Sofia Josefa de Zulueta. Rafael was born in the Spanish embassy in London, England, in 1865. The unusual surname,“Merry” came from Irish merchants who had settled in Seville, Spain in the eighteenth century. His family could trace their lineage back to the 12th century.

Living and growing up in London allowed for young Rafael to receive the best academic training offered by the British schools. However, despite his aristocratic background, young Rafael always displayed a genuine and personal humility tempered by integrity and modesty that he carried throughout his life.

From an early age, Rafael felt the call to the priesthood.  He attended a Jesuit preparatory school and from there went on to Upshaw College. He already had earned a Doctorate in Philosophy at Pontifical Gregorian University when he was ordained to the priesthood on December 30, 1888. He followed by earning a Doctorate in Theology and then a Licentiate in Canon law. He was already visible on Pope Leo XIII’s  radar.

He was entrusted by Pope Leo with studying the question of the validity of Anglican orders. This was a huge issue at the time, and Merry del Val was the main architect of the Church’s response to this question. The result of his work was the Papal bull, Apostolicae Curae.

The lives of Pope Pius X and Cardinal Merry del Val would never have crossed paths if God did not have a plan. The pope was born poor and had spent his entire life among the poor. Cardinal del Val came from one of the most prominent families in Europe. He had been educated in the best schools and was at home at any embassy in Europe.

During the Papal Conclave of 1903, the Austrians stopped the election of Cardinal Tindaro. Ironically, the secretary of the College of Cardinals had died almost the same time as Pope Leo

XIII. In their quest to hurry and get someone to coordinate the papal election, the pontifical academy chose Merry del Val. He had only been a bishop for three years. After four days and on the seventh ballot, a relatively unknown cardinal from Venice was elected. Guiseppe Cardinal Sarto was elected to the papacy. He took the name, Pope Pius X. He and Bishop Merry del Val, two total opposites, became fast friends.

After two months Bishop del Val was elevated to cardinal and, next to the Pope,  the most powerful position in the Vatican; that of Secretary of State. He was the first Cardinal elevated by Pope Pius X and the Holy Father, upon bestowing the cardinal’s hat upon him said, “The good odor of Christ, lord cardinal, that you have spread in every place, even in your temporary dwelling, and the many works of charity to which you have dedicated yourself constantly in your priestly ministry, especially in this our city of Rome, have won for you, with admiration, universal esteem.[1]

Pope Pius X passed away on August 20, 1914. Cardinal Merry del Val passed away in 1930. But perhaps more than anything else, Cardinal Merry del Val is known  for the Litany of Humility.  Many insist he is the one who actually wrote  it. It is known that he said it every day after he celebrated Mass. C.S. Lewis gave Cardinal del Val credit for composing it. So did Father Charles Belmont of Opus Dei. There wasa similar version found that was supposedly published in 1867 but the author of that seems to vanish into obscurity.

You might open the link and print out a copy. It is a beautiful Litany to have available.

Servant of God,  Cardinal Merry del Val; please pray for us.