Forgiving

Thirty-five years passed since they knew each other in junior high school. What do you remember of your junior high or middle school years? Were these the best  years of your life? I don’t know anyone who would say so. Some describe this period as a wonderful-terrible in between time. For some, more terrible than wonderful.

Friendships loom large at that age. One hungers to be accepted by others, to be invited in the group, to be welcomed at the lunchroom table. For many, though, junior high days are filled with painful disappointments and rejections, being avoided, teased, made the object of cruel comments and treatment. Blessedly, one eventually survives the ordeal and moves on in life. High school, college, passing years help to develop confidence, poise, self worth, maturity. Memories of the bad experiences of youth fade. This is what happened to my friend.

Then, out of the blue, comes an email. A voice out of the past, from someone she knew in junior high and hadn’t seen or heard from in 35 years. “She said she treated me badly and that I only wanted to be her friend. She asked for forgiveness,” my friend said. “I will hold this brave and loving gesture in my heart for a long, long time.” Then she added this in her reply to the sender of the unexpected email: “You are forgiven and loved.”

And so the lives of two good people suddenly got better. Is there someone whose forgiveness you need? Do you have the moral courage, the guts, to find them and ask for forgiveness? Is there someone you need to forgive? Don’t wait for an apology. Go ahead and lighten that person’s load.

And your own.

Today’s word is a phrase: Me and my brother . . . Never start a sentence with “me.” We all know better, or should. “My brother and I . . . would be correct. Try it.

 

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