I add my Grandmother’s lesson on amends. She began by saying that when I hurt someone, G-d expected me to make them whole again. There are three parts to amends. First, I must accept responsibility by telling the person that I’ve hurt, exactly what I did wrong. Next, I must ask the person that I’ve hurt, the full extent of damage that I have caused them. Finally, I must ask what I can do to make them whole again.

To instill her lesson, my Grandmother asked me to remember something I had done to hurt her, so we could work through the steps to amends together. I was young, and all I could remember was the time we laughed when she sat down in the rocking chair and ended up sprawled on the floor when it broke (Grandma was a big woman). That day, Grandma had pretended our laughter had not hurt her feelings. But we were working on amends, so Grandma told me how much it hurt when she saw me laughing — at her. But Grandma, I replied, everyone was laughing. Yes, she said, but no one could make amends for me — and I could not make amends for other people.

So, I started over and apologized for laughing at her. I told her that laughing at her had made me feel awful. I felt awful every time I remembered it. By then, I was crying and wanting to feel better, I told her I felt even worse talking about it — with her. Grandma said that was good, it meant my moral compass pointed true north. It sure didn’t feel good to me, but seeing me hurting over hurting her, was very good news to my Grandmother (the woman could scare a child off bad behaviour better than anyone I would ever meet).

I had just started feeling better, when Grandma said “step two”. Grandma what damage did I cause you? Grandma held nothing back and threw her famous vocabulary to the task. And that’s how I learned that when I had laughed at my Grandmother, she had been humiliated to tears and so ashamed of her weight she felt angry and resentful towards me. Let me tell you, I wanted my whole family to share the weight with me, but Grandma would have none of that. “YOU” laughed at me she said, you need to make amends for what you did — step 3.

And so, I asked my Grandma what Icould do to make her whole again? Grandma leaned forward, lifted my chin and said, “you can promise me you will never forget how you felt when you made amends for the first time.” But Grandma I’ve learned my lesson, I won’t ever do that again. Oh, yes you will dear, you will hurt people many, many times. Making amends will stop you from leaving the people you hurt alone when they need help the most.

Please note, not once did my Grandmother speak of forgiveness. My grandmother never forgave, anyone, for anything, ever. If people wanted forgiveness, she sent them straight to G-d. You’ll have to take it up with G-d, she’d say, forgiveness belongs to the divine.

Amends heals both, the offender and the offended. Wrong doing without amends, breeds more wrong doing. Do wrong and make your amends quickly lest you find yourself crushed by the weight of lies upon lies, wrong upon wrong, piling up inside of you.

Now, replace Grandma and me in this story, with the little boy and the woman who accused him of touching her. Can you see how amends would have made the boy whole again?