On July 22. 2018, an ordinary summer's evening, Danielle Kane was celebrating a friend's birthday in one of the restaurants in Toronto's popular Greek Town. She hasn't gone home since. When she stepped outside to investigate what sounded like fireworks, she looked an ordinary looking stranger in the eye. Then he fired a gun at her. The bullet went through her spinal cord and stomach. Danielle was rushed to the hospital.
Scarlett Lewis, who’s son Jesse was killed in the Sandy Hook elementary school shooting in Connecticut in 2012, has chosen forgiveness over hatred. In her powerful testimony she says forgiving his killer cut the invisible cord of anger that linked her to him after her son’s death.
I love remembrance day. I appreciate the time it gives the world to pause, reflect on past wars, the lives they cost, and pray that “never again” will one day come true. This year, I encapsulated that hope in my shortest poem ever:
Let “never again” become so obvious we never have to say it again.
(http://crypeace.org/news/never-again)
Amen.
I also wrote a poem from the perspectives of an Israeli and a Palestinian, remembering war but hoping for peace (I Want (I Don't Want)).
Reverend Désiré Rutaganda is the Coordinator of the Centre for Documentation and Training in Kigali, Rwanda. This interfaith organisation was established in 1999 to live out the Christian values of peace and reconciliation, which were disappointingly absent from some churches and believers during the genocide perpetrated against the Tutsi in Rwanda. Today, as people of God, they model how peace can transform communities for peace at the grassroots.
Modise Phekouyane used to be an angry, hateful young man who considered Nelson Mandela a traitor. Today, he embodies forgiveness and reconciliation so that neither he, nor his former oppressors, will remain victims of apartheid.
Josh was just an ordinary kid, and he had an ordinary problem - he was being bullied at highschool. Wanting to let people know he existed, he was a good person, and to react positively to the negative attacks, he wondered what he could do. So he held open a door. Every day. For months. That small act changed everything.
Tonight, as I was cooking dinner, I browsed my list of podcasts and chose CBC Ideas. I clicked today's show, and was surprised to hear the voice of my friend, Jean Paul Samputu. Jean Paul Samputu is the man who gives me the most hope of anyone in the world that forgiveness is humanly possible, even after the most vicious atrocities.
