"I know，" she said."But that' s no excuse for..." She hesitated， then continued. "It' s just always bothered me， remembering how mean I was to you. And I' ve wanted to tell you that I' m sorry. So... I' m sorry." The smile on her face was warm and sincere. And there was something in her eyes—it looked a lot like relief—that melted any vestiges of icy resentment that may have built up within me during the years since she had slam-dunked my heart.
"OK，" I said. "Apology accepted！" Overcome by the sweetness of the moment， I reached an arm around her and gave her a quick hug. Just then， the crowd erupted with a huge cheer， and Marci and I both returned our attention to the game. By the time I looked over to where she had been， she was gone. But the warm， wonderful feeling of our brief exchange was still there， and continues to this day whenever I think about it.
We all carry bitter， discomforting memories of deeds done or undone， and words said or unsaid. And we all bear wounds—some slight， some not-so-slight—that have been inflicted upon us by others. The healing balm of forgiveness can soothe a troubled conscience and bring peace to an injured soul—even years after the fact.
Of course， it isn' t enough to just say "I' m sorry" and "You' re forgiven." While there is indeed great power in those simple words， it is not available to those who are insincere， or who are only looking for a way to control， manipulate or exploit. But when those words are truly felt and sincerely expressed， they can open the door to miracles of the heart and soul—miracles of forgiveness.
“喬？是你嗎？”籃球賽上一個有些麵熟的女人問我。“瑪西？”
她大笑著驚叫道：“真的是你！天哪，再次見到你真高興啊！”見到瑪西，我也很開心。在過去的幾十年中，我時常會想起她。幾年前，我聽一個我們都認識的朋友說，瑪西在最近十年裏過得很苦，當時，我差點兒要去追尋她的下落。能在籃球賽上碰麵，真是很幸運。