There is a feeling, at 2 a.m. on a darkened airplane with a screaming baby, when you are moving from seat to seat because nobody wants you sitting nearby, and you want to tell them the baby is a good baby; he's only crying because you got him out of bed, you are only flying because your father is dead in Toronto. And you don’t know enough Hebrew to scream it out - would you anyway, even if you did? - so you just grit your teeth and move to a new seat and think quietly to yourself, "Abba sheli haya meit b'Toronto."
It is the same feeling of being kicked out of shul. The same, "we don't want you here, don't care what your story is, just go somewhere else."
The Kicker-Outer came by while we were at Mrs. ViKi's today. She left a note asking forgiveness since she'd obviously upset me. Not really admitting anything, but sorry she’d hurt me.
Gosh, this is hard! But yes, I forgave her completely the second I read her note.
I wonder if Hashem also wants me to forgive the people on the plane?