“I’m glad,” I said sincerely.
“Teresa is teaching me a lot,” she continued, “about humility, about gratitude. She lost her husband, she lost her house, and she still smiles every day. She’s grateful for what she has. And I… I had everything, and I never stopped complaining.”
She wiped away a tear.
“I’m not asking you to forgive me. I’m just asking you to let me try to be better. To see that I’m trying.”
I looked at her.
This woman who had made me invisible, who planned to get rid of me, who humiliated me for three years.
But I also saw a broken woman trying to put herself back together.
“Forgiveness,” I told her, “isn’t asked for. It’s earned. With actions, with time, with real change.”
“I know,” she whispered. “And I’m willing.”
“I’ll see,” I said. “If you can achieve it.”
