Of Fathers and Forgiveness
Sara had heard of the trend—anonymous apology letters left in public. But she never imagined being a recipient. The note left outside her office didn’t make sense.
A few days later, another one appeared. “It’s my fault your dad wasn’t around.”
Her heart raced. “Is this a joke?!”
She was six when her dad died in an accident. After that, life wasn’t the same. From teaching her to cycle to walking her down the aisle—he had missed it all.
The third letter arrived quickly.
“It was my first day riding my bicycle alone. I froze when a car came out of nowhere. Your dad swerved to save me. I still see his eyes, the blood, the fumes… I should’ve apologized long ago. Now that I’m a father, I know what I stole from you.”
That evening, another letter appeared:
“I can never be forgiven. But I’d love it if my son, Ben could get to know you.”
Weeks passed. Sara read the letters over and over, torn between sorrow, rage, and finally a strange sense of peace. Smiling warmly, she left a note outside her door. “I can’t wait to meet Ben, my father’s namesake.”
***