Have you ever noticed that the ease of forgiving seems pretty subjective? It varies so much on the what, the who, the why. As with so many lessons, I’m reminded of a story. My youngest son was about 5 years old. And, like most children of that age, he had something special. In his case, it was “Soft”. Soft was a double-sided flannel receiving blanket made years before by my grandmother for my oldest son. It passed through two children before its bond with my youngest son, who gave it even more love than my grandmother had put into it. Soft was life. It went to school, folded in the bottom of his backpack. It slept with him. It was dragged around the house, went to sleepovers, and was rarely far from his side. His other pride and joy around that time was a hamster. This was a well-loved hamster – the kind that’s handled often, comes readily to a hand in the cage, and doesn’t bite or nip. The hamster lived in a cage at the end of his bed. You can probably see where this is going…