She tells me the next day that the boy didn’t know what that word meant. He, she felt, was sincerely sorry. Loving friends and other students alerted caring teachers of the hurt being dished out before our “daughter” even had to bring up her pain in broken words and downcast eyes. She didn’t want to go to school that next morning and I assured her she must. She must look him in the eye and tell her how she feels. She does and her bigger than life grin at the end of the day tells me it all went well. It went better than well. Forgiveness came from a boy who really didn’t know that his one word carried a painful missile. A young woman learned that standing up and speaking out sometimes bring about tremendous results for heart, soul, and mind. Joy replaces pain. Wounds balm up with three powerful words. I am sorry. Forgiveness ropes around the two of them and unleashes its’ balance and peace. Gladness is restored. Pain is dulled and heartbreak becomes tenderly, gently put back together. Once again, God letting us know, that He’s got it.