The Long Night and Forgiveness

The Longest Night

A great many people believe that to forgive is to forget. If you still remember the hurt, they say, you have not really forgiven, and the old English pairing "forgive and forget" seems to prove it.

The innkeeper had believed exactly that for thirty years, which is why he had decided that he had never forgiven his brother. On the longest night of the year, with the lantern lit before four in the afternoon and the frost already thick on the gate, the traveler set out to change his mind.

"You remember every word of that quarrel," she said, warming her hands at the lantern's glass. "But remembering is only the work of your memory, and forgiving is the work of your heart, and the two of them do not always keep the same hours."

"Then what does forgiving look like, if the words are still there every time I pass his old room?" asked the innkeeper.

The sayings she had collected answered him in their own way. Very few of them ask anyone to forget. They ask you to remember that every person makes mistakes, to set your pride down, to let the past stop turning your days, and to mend a small crack before the whole wall has to be built again. In English, "Forgive and forget", "pardon a wrong and put it out of your mind", is a real and old saying, but it stands almost alone among the many voices of the road. Most of the others say that forgiveness is something you choose while you still remember, and that it may be worth more for exactly that reason. So, through the long night, the two of them went through her notebook.

Skilled Swimmers and Climbers

The traveler began with mistakes, because forgiveness starts with the plain fact that everyone makes them. In Japanese, "Kappa no kawa nagare", "even a kappa is carried away by the river". The kappa is a water creature of old folk tales and the finest swimmer of all, and still the current sometimes sweeps it off. The saying is used to comfort an expert who has made a beginner's error, and it carries no mockery at all.

In Korean the expert is a climber instead of a swimmer. "Wonsungido namueseo tteoreojinda", "even a monkey falls from a tree". The traveler liked the way two neighboring languages had each chosen the most skillful creature they knew and then let it slip all the same.

Imagine you are on a guided walk through old streets, and your guide, who has lived there all her life, leads the whole group down the wrong lane. "I have walked these streets ten thousand times, and I still took the wrong turn," she says, laughing at herself.

"Even monkeys fall from trees, so please do not worry, because this lane has the best bakery we have seen all day," you answer.

No One Without Fault

In Turkish, "Hatasız kul olmaz", "there is no human being without faults". The word kul means a servant of God, that is, any human being, so the saying reminds people that no creature is perfect. It is often said gently, to end an argument, by the person who has been wronged. In Irish there is a saying that reaches even higher. "Ní bhíonn saoi gan locht", "there is no wise person without a fault". Even the wisest teacher in the valley makes mistakes, so the rest of us need not be ashamed of ours.

Imagine you are at a market stall where the seller has given you the wrong change, and a minute later he runs after you down the street, red in the face. "I counted wrong, and I am ashamed, because I have been doing this job for thirty years," he says, quite out of breath.

"There is no human being without faults, and you ran the length of a whole street to put it right, which is more than most people would do," you tell him.

In Italian the mistake becomes a teacher. "Sbagliando s'impara", "by making mistakes, one learns". The saying looks forward instead of back, and it gives the person who has done wrong a reason to try again.

Picture yourself in a cooking class in a farmhouse kitchen, where you have just ruined the pasta dough by adding far too much water. "Do not throw it away, because we can fix it with a little more flour," says the cook beside you.

"By making mistakes, one learns, and I think I have learned a great deal in one afternoon," you reply.

A Fault Confessed

The innkeeper leaned forward when she reached the sayings about saying sorry, because he had always found it the hardest part. In French, "Faute avouée est à moitié pardonnée", "a fault confessed is half forgiven". The person who admits a mistake has already done half the work of mending it, and the other person can meet them halfway.

In Russian, "Povinnuyu golovu mech ne sechyot", "the sword does not cut a bowed head". When someone bows their head and admits their fault, even an angry heart finds it hard to strike. The saying is old and stern, but its message is mild.

Imagine you have forgotten to call ahead and you arrive at a small guesthouse a day late, and the owner has kept a room empty for you all night. "We waited until midnight with the light on, and we were worried something had happened to you," she says.

"I am truly sorry, it was entirely my mistake, and I should have called you from the station," you say, and she softens at once. "A fault confessed is half forgiven, so come in, and you can tell me about the train over tea," she replies.

Pride Before the Fall

"Then why is it so hard to say sorry?" asked the innkeeper, and the traveler pointed to the oldest obstacle there is.

In English, "Pride goes before a fall", "too much pride leads to disaster". In German the same warning has its own form, "Hochmut kommt vor dem Fall", "arrogance comes before the fall". Both sayings describe a person who walks with their head so high that they no longer see the step in front of them. In a quarrel, pride is what keeps two people apart long after both of them have forgotten what started it. The traveler said that she had seen this on every road. She had seen it in two brothers who ran shops on the same square and had not spoken in twenty years, and in old friends who each waited for the other to write first. Every season the letters stayed unwritten, and the pride stayed warm while the friendship grew cold.

The innkeeper was quiet for a long time, watching the lantern flame lean and straighten in the draft from the gate.

Room to Meet Again

When he spoke again, he asked whether any of her sayings told a proud person what to do instead. In Chinese, "Fán shì liú yī xiàn, rìhòu hǎo xiāngjiàn", "in everything leave a thread, so that later you can meet again easily". Even in a hot quarrel, keep one kind word or one open door, so that one day you can face each other without shame. Proud people tend to cut every thread at once, and this saying asks you to keep at least one.

In Sanskrit, "Kshama virasya bhushanam", "forgiveness is the ornament of the brave". The saying turns the usual idea around, since many people think that forgiving is weak and holding a grudge is strong. Here forgiveness is what a brave person wears.

In Arabic, "Al-afwu inda al-maqdira", "forgiveness when you have the power". The finest forgiveness is offered by someone who could take revenge and chooses not to. People often add that this is a trait of noble people.

Picture yourself sharing a taxi from the airport with a stranger who has taken the larger part of the seat and most of your patience. He apologizes as you arrive, embarrassed. "I was rude and tired, and I took up all the room, so let me pay the fare," he says.

"In everything leave a thread, so that later you can meet again, and since we are both staying in this town, let us split the fare and say no more about it," you answer, and he shakes your hand at the curb.

Friends After a Quarrel

There is a cheerful Chinese saying for the end of a quarrel, and the traveler read it out with a smile. In Chinese, "Bù dǎ bù xiāngshí", "without a fight, no real acquaintance". People who have argued and made peace often know each other better than people who have always been polite. The saying is used when two rivals become friends, and it suggests that the quarrel was the first step of the friendship.

"So my brother and I may know each other better than any two men on this road," said the innkeeper with a dry laugh, "if only one of us would take the step."

Imagine that in a crowded hostel you argued with a fellow traveler about whether the dormitory window should stay open, and a week later you meet him again by chance at a ferry port. "You are the one who wanted the window shut all night," he says, laughing as he recognizes you.

"Without a fight, no real acquaintance, so let me buy you a coffee while we wait for the boat," you answer, and the long crossing passes quickly.

The Crack in the Wall

The traveler warned that quarrels do not wait politely while people make up their minds. In Swahili, "Usipoziba ufa utajenga ukuta", "if you do not fill the crack, you will have to build a wall". A crack left alone in a mud wall spreads until the wall falls and must be built again from the ground. A small hurt left alone grows in the same way, and a quick word of peace is far cheaper than years of silence.

Picture yourself sharing a rented flat with two friends for a month, when a small argument about the washing-up has started to spoil every breakfast. "Shall we just ignore it and hope that it goes away by itself?" asks one of them.

"If you do not fill the crack, you will have to build a wall, so let us make a plan tonight and laugh about it tomorrow," you answer.

An English saying makes the same point with a needle. "A stitch in time saves nine", "one small repair made early saves nine later". It was first said about torn clothes, but it holds for torn friendships as well. A short apology on the first evening saves months of silence and a great deal of pride.

Imagine you and your oldest friend have snapped at each other on the fourth day of a long, rainy trip. In the morning she knocks on your door with two coffees. "I said some unkind things last night, and I am sorry, because I was cold and tired," she says.

"A stitch in time saves nine, and I am sorry too, so let us drink these before they go cold and find somewhere dry for breakfast," you answer, and the day is saved.

Water Past the Mill

The traveler kept the most important saying for the deepest part of the night. In Spanish, "Agua pasada no mueve molino", "water that has passed does not turn the mill". The water that has already flowed by is still real, and it may still be running somewhere far downstream. But it no longer turns your wheel, and it no longer drives your days.

"That is the answer to your question," she said. "To forgive is not to forget the water, but to stop letting it turn the mill."

The innkeeper turned the saying over for a long time. He said that he would always remember his brother's angry words on the morning they parted, and the sound of the gate closing behind him. But perhaps he no longer needed to hear them every evening when he lit the lantern.

Imagine you meet a former colleague on a station platform years after a bitter quarrel at work, and she hesitates before she greets you. "I was not sure you would even want to speak to me after everything that happened between us," she says.

"Water that has passed does not turn the mill, and I would much rather hear where you are traveling this winter," you answer, and you both step onto the same train.

Pomegranates at Yalda

Because it was the longest night, the traveler told him how people in Persian-speaking lands keep it awake. The night is called Yalda, and families gather at the oldest relative's house to stay up past midnight, eating pomegranates and watermelon, cracking nuts and reading old poems aloud. The red fruit is said to stand for the dawn that will come, and the long talk keeps everyone company until the darkness begins to shorten. Many other places light fires or lamps on the same night, because people have always wanted to keep each other close until the sun returns. The traveler said that old quarrels are easier to set aside at such a table, since nobody wants to sit in silence through the longest dark of the year.

Two Words for the Road

Before the fire burned low, the traveler offered a small thing to try, and she offered it to you as well as to the innkeeper. Before you arrive in a new place, learn two short phrases in its language: one for "I am sorry" and one for "never mind, it is nothing". Write them side by side on a single page of your notebook, with a note on how to say them. Then use them the first time you bump into someone in a doorway or someone steps on your foot on a crowded tram. After a few journeys, that page becomes a small collection of apologies and pardons from every road you have walked. Most travelers find that the second phrase, the forgiving one, is the one that makes people smile.

Oil Before Dawn

The innkeeper wrote his letter at the bench, slowly, with the paper on his knee. When he had finished, he asked whether the traveler could carry it to the coast when the road opened in spring, since her way passed close to his brother's town.

"And what will you hope for, when he reads it?" she asked. "Will a single reply be enough for you, or will you want him back at this table?"

He did not answer. He only stood, took the oil can from its shelf and filled the lantern, which had burned low through the long night, and its flame rose again, small and steady, over the frozen road.