The Forgivers
There are few people in my life I completely trust. There are few people in my life that I truly understand. There are few, less than three, that are, to me, a forgiver. Those people are the ones I am grateful to. They gave me a chance I didn’t earn, that wasn’t maybe deserved by me, but they gave it anyways. Those few people are, to me, a forgiver.
All my forgivers I had not liked at first. They were too chatty, too annoying, just not my type of friends. I liked funny, quiet people, who were intelligent and didn’t speak continuously, showing their intelligence. At first, those forgivers I detested a little. I was mean to them, in indirect ways, and tried to prove they weren’t worth it. In games we played, I made them do cruel tasks. I made them show us that they weren’t weak, and that they were strong. I was the leader of that, but there were a few people who followed me. They had parts they did not like about the people, and they went along with me. I had to admit, we were jealous of them. But then they usually did pretty well, and we praised them. But we didn’t mean it. We didn’t like their glory. In fact, we never liked them at all.
These people are special. They are really kind in the heart, and sweet people. Though they still get on my nerves, they, to me, are different. They can tease me, and I can get mad at them, punch them, and even kick them. But they are still true friends at heart. They know who I am, and they usually stop teasing me after. Maybe it’s my pride that makes me hurt them, both in the heart and physically. I don’t like to be humiliated, and when I do get humiliated, I’m a mess of fury and danger. My pride stoops pretty high, and when people make fun of me, I am not a pretty sight. I can kick them, glare at them super hard, or just give them a scowl and stalk away. When I do that, most people hate me for the rest of their lives, unless I’m nice to them, and act friendly with them. My friends forgive me, because I taunt them too. But the forgivers, they completely understand me. After I kick them in the shins, and hard, the next day, they do not bring it up. That’s different. Usual people will send me a glare, and my friends will forget it too. But the forgivers don’t bring it up. I push them harder, kick them more powerfully, and act harsher toward them. They still keep their good nature, and their beautiful personality. They are still close friends with me, and tell me the deepest and darkest of their secrets.
My forgivers are so kind. They seem to be happy all the time, and hardly take a word of insult. They are smart, clever, kind, nice, and forgiving. Sometimes, when I push them, I feel like that’s good for them. They are so easy going I think they need some type of person chasing after them, bothering them, annoying them, so they will attempt to outsmart me. But I know what I have done before is wrong. Bullying them was what I have done, and I am ashamed. I shouldn’t have done that, been the cruel queen. I should have been kinder to them. But I thank them. I have another view of all people now. Though some may annoy me and irk me, I know I have to treat them right. I am a sharp-tongued, fierce, and defensive person. I may snap at people and glare at them. I am hostile to strangers and those I do not like. I am trying to change that. I don’t want any more forgivers. They are too much for me. They are too good for me. I am forever in their debt. I want to start treating more kindly and being more gentle. I have to master the skill of compassion toward others, not just friends. I have already learned the skill of being tough. Now is my time to start acting right, to treat people the way they deserve to be treated. I have learned all this through my forgivers, and now is my time to thank them. Thank you. Thank you for teaching me how to be a better leader. Thank you forever. Thank you for looking past my hostile and unfriendly side, for looking through the real me. I thank you forever and ever. Thank you.
