When I was growing up, forgiveness seemed like another way of saying, “I am sorry.” I didn’t begin to understand the meaning of forgiveness until I was in about fifth grade. My mom, who was a Protestant, made me apologize for something that wasn’t my fault. At that moment, I think I began to understand
Tag: Third Culture Kid
As usual last night, I was sitting in the lobby of Building One of our apartment building at Dwell Nona Place when a new person joined our gathering. Carlo quickly became a new friend. There was a lot in common experience in our history to chat about, particularly a link to my childhood in Saudi