The old man leaned forward in his chair and poked the glowing embers of the fire with a long stick.
He’d finally done it. He’d made a list of everything he’d ever done wrong. It had taken him weeks, but he wrote down everything he could remember—every sin, every slight, every regret.
With each entry, he’d paused to reflect on what he’d done and felt remorse and shame.
Now he dropped the pages into the fire. They burst into flames, and their ashes fell onto the hot coals.
He sat back, weeping, and felt light and cleansed and free.
He’d finally done it. He’d made a list of everything he’d ever done wrong. It had taken him weeks, but he wrote down everything he could remember—every sin, every slight, every regret.
With each entry, he’d paused to reflect on what he’d done and felt remorse and shame.
Now he dropped the pages into the fire. They burst into flames, and their ashes fell onto the hot coals.
He sat back, weeping, and felt light and cleansed and free.
