Ready to forgive

IT was a long overseas flight. After a good sleep, I got up for a stretch—inadvertently spilling a glass of ice water right into the lap of the man sleeping in the seat next to me.

I watched helplessly as the cold water seeped through his pants. All I could do was call the flight attendant to bring towels. Startled from sleep, my fellow passenger yelped. How awful I felt to have given him such a shock. "Have I ruined your clothes?" I asked, apologizing. He was calm, and smiled, seeing the humor of the situation. "Don't worry," he said. "They'll be dry before we land."

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Poem
The stillness of Your voice
November 11, 2002
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