In the January 20 issue of the Sentinel we published a "Profile" called "Forgiveness in Beirut. " It told of the experience of Margaret Powell, a Christian Scientist, as she confronted the severe injuries of her cousin Mary Lee after the bombing of the American Embassy in Beirut. She said that her relationship to her cousin was very close—they were more like sisters. In the attack Mary Lee's husband had been killed.

Mrs. Powell flew to Beirut to help her cousin. In the "Profile" she told of her struggles with fear and of how she found it possible to forgive in the light of God's love.

Recently a reader wrote to Mrs. Powell regarding her own lessons learned about forgiveness. We felt you would be as moved as we were by this letter. The writer has given us her permission to share excerpts from it.

The Editors

Dearest Margaret,

As I sat reading your article in the Sentinel, tears fell from my eyes. I could feel your understanding, your progress, and relate to your every experience. I had a similar experience but never knew how to share it with others until reading your special words: "You can practice forgiveness in your own experience. We have to begin somewhere."

My husband was killed by an escaped convict while on a business trip. Even as it happened I was filled with forgiveness of the individual, knowing that he must be troubled and not acting like himself. Later as I thought more about him, I realized that I could not and never wanted to be the judge of his wrongdoings. I had three young children, and being a Christian Scientist, I knew that I couldn't lie to them. I wanted to explain what had happened and to do it with love, including love for this person. The children and I stayed very close to each other; we slept together, talked together, and always in terms of loving each other and forgiving everyone. I never felt that I could go in any other way. Nightly we prayed together to learn more of our "real Father-Mother." I had to assure the children that they couldn't and shouldn't rely only on me, a human mother, but that God was their Father-Mother.

I never wanted my children to have any hate or anger toward people and [prayed to see] how I could further their love for their fellow beings.

My neighbors were filled with misgivings and confusion. My husband was first kidnapped and held several days and then killed and left in a field. It was all over the news for about three weeks, and people were coming to me constantly, asking what they could do or say. They felt their prayers were not helpful. I would ask them into our living room and with great conviction tell them that their prayers were helpful.

Time went on, and the entire family grew in understanding. I could tell from the way I was responding that I was making real progress. As comments of "Why don't you do something against this man?" arose, I still found myself thinking, "He is God's charge, and I have nothing to do with accusing but have to love him as another idea of God."

Then I faced many encounters with lawyers and lots of unpleasant tasks. Once when I was in a parking garage going to one of many meetings with my lawyer, I found myself gripped with fear. I was heading down to the lower level of an underground garage and was alone with many valuable papers. As the elevator door opened onto this empty, dark parking area, I froze and could only envision the picture that the police had given of my husband's encounter. I couldn't go out of the elevator and couldn't go back to the street level. After several seconds I found that I had moved into the dark area and, praying that God was with me, ran to the car. I jumped in and locked the door behind me but still sat in terror. After several times of repeating "God is here with you," I began to feel calmer and soon realized that this included me, my children, and finally the convict. Then I was freed and could move out of the garage. I had to return to that garage many times again but was completely free and found new freedom in loving my fellowman.

The convict was sent to prison, and I believe he is still serving his sentence. I later learned that he had expressed some degree of remorse.

It is now seven years later, and I have an entirely new sense of freedom. Over the seven-year period, I received many comments from people, asking over and over again what they could do, and how it was possible for me to love this misguided person. One of the reasons that I could readily forgive is that when I first came into Christian Science—I was only twelve years old—I was told that God loved me, period. I wasn't the best teenager at that point and felt that I had to live up to God or do something great in order to obtain forgiveness. But this Sunday School teacher conveyed to me so clearly that God loved me then and there that never again did I feel lost or like a bad person. If each person could know and feel that God loves him first, what a wonderful world we'd have! I hope that I can in some way help others to feel that same worth and love.

I am so grateful for your article and that you shared it so beautifully. It indeed touched me and helped me to see how I can share that same feeling.

With much love, Susie Smeyers