Forgiveness
When I first moved here, I asked this “friend” to introduce me to people. She was always reluctant to help. When I fired the first “contractor,” I asked her to speak with him in Creole so he couldn’t hide behind “I don’t understand” anymore. That contractor turned out to be nothing but a liar and a cheater. After everything was settled, this “friend” came to me and said, “I’m not here to solve your problems. Stop creating more mess for me to take care of.”
Her sister used to teach law in this country before moving to Canada. When the second “contractor” — another fake one — tried to sue me, I asked her for a lawyer recommendation. She refused.
There is a Chinese saying: “Friends are important when you are away from home.” I’ve known her for over two decades. We were never close, but I thought I could rely on her when I moved here. I didn’t expect the door to be shut in my face again and again. Eventually, I learned that I must rely on myself. No one else is guaranteed to be reliable. Since then, we stopped contacting each other.
Out of the blue, she phoned me yesterday. She said she wanted to see my house. Without thinking too much, I said “okay.” She came three hours later. We talked, I showed her around, and then she left. I’m a little proud of myself for not holding a grudge. It has been more than two years.
I have two principles: people can be forgiven if “they were not the ones who killed my father,” or “they did not hurt me on purpose.” So I forgave her. If she needs help, I would help. But what I’ve learned in this country is simple: if I can do something myself, I do it myself. I try not to bother anyone.
For those who hurt me intentionally, I believe in karma. Punishment comes in its own time, in its own way.