How Can I Forgive... from Vera Sinton

Once in a while there is a hurt which stops you in your tracks. You feel shocked, outraged. You may be blazing with anger or just feel cold and numb. The last thing you feel like doing is turning towards the one who hurt you. Perhaps you feel its impossible to forget the hurt or stop feeling the anger. Perhaps it even seems that it would be wrong to forgive: what has been done offends all justice.

A small boy is playing with a stick in an open space just beyond his village. There are still some bones and skulls to be seen in the grass, remains of the last massacre when troops swept in and shot all the people they suspected of helping the guerrillas. In the boy's mind, the stick is a machine gun. He is practising shooting his father's murderers. He is the man of the family now. When he grows up he has to take revenge.

Fifty years on from the second world war some of the inmates of prisoner-of-war camps in the Asian jungles are still campaigning for compensation. They speak of the lasting physical effects of the tortures they went through. 'The world may forget', one man says, 'but I could never forgive'.

Maybe the unforgivable hurt is to someone you love. Shirley bottled up the hurt done to her husband by a colleague at work. 'I have no problem forgiving for myself,' she said, 'but I feel I have no right to forgive that'

Forgiveness for the little everyday injuries is something we give and receive all the time.
I tread on your toe and you say, 'That's all right.'
Someone makes a mistake that delays the whole team at work but we smile and carry on.

A comment from a friend suddenly hurts me. She sees my frown or the way my shoulders sag and quickly shows she is sorry and cheers me up. We forgive and are forgiven, hardly noticing it happens.

But what happens when it comes to the big hurts for which there will be no easy cure? How can we forgive?
Some people have found the answer to that question.