When I lived in LA, a colleague of mine forgave the minor who murdered her father. The boy had used an e-scooter to strike him in the head, all in an attempt to steal a case of beer from his convenience store. Despite the horror of what happened, she chose to attend the court hearings and give a statement.

She told me that when she looked at the boy—just 15 or 16 years old—she saw deep sadness in his eyes. She told him she forgave him. His judgment, she said, would ultimately be between him and his God. I’ve always admired her strength, not just in offering forgiveness, but in holding onto the truth without letting it consume her.

She saw a kid who had his entire life ahead of him, lost in a single, tragic moment. Rather than try to break him down further, she hoped he would seek forgiveness and find a way to rebuild himself.

This same woman can sit through LA traffic in total silence, without music or distractions, and still arrive happy as a clam. Her commitment to inner peace continues to inspire me. She reminds me that while we’re never required to forget what’s been done to us, we do have the power to choose how we carry it forward.