From my desk, I could see the office park pond through the wall of windows. Its tranquility belied the tumultuous day ahead—not just for me, but for our nation.

Forgiveness Can Be a Process  I had barely started school when a charming woman waltzed into my father’s life. It wasn’t long after that she also entered mine as my stepmother. My memories of her are grisly.  I remember feeling startled and bewildered when she burst into my room and hurled my clothes onto the floor, the ones she had grudgingly f...