Three Apologies

There have been times I was certain that I was owed an apology but never received one. Several weeks ago the opposite happened and it happened big time. The first request for forgiveness was from an editor who regretted making me wait a couple of weeks for her response. In the world of free-lance a fortnight is like a blink of an eye and I forgave her whole-heartedly, touched she’d even asked.

The next request came from our village manager. There have been major renovations on our street and in the midst of the noise, dust, and general discomfort a set of hand rails next to the stairs on the path to the synagogue were removed. Those hand rails had been donated by my father, may he rest in peace, and apparently the manager heard that I was upset about their removal. Full of concern about my emotions he came to speak with me, assure me that new rails would be put up, and my father’s used in another place that needed them just as badly. Once again, I was touched by someone’s concern and sensitivity. 

The most interesting apology occurred in a restaurant. There’s a new one in Ariel, the closest city to Shilo, and my husband and I decided to explore it. I ordered sushi, a special treat, for an appetizer. When the main course came, though, I saw to my dismay, that the delicious-looking salad was drenched with a dressing I was allergic to. The menu hadn’t mentioned any condiments but as an experienced dieter I knew I should have asked for specifics. The waitress could not have been more gracious about taking the responsibility for the mix-up. Within a blink of an eye she grabbed the salad and told me she’d bring me a new one shortly.

She did, only after a five or ten-minute wait. If that wasn’t enough a different waiter brought another tray of sushi to the table. Why? Because they’d messed up my order and wanted to apologize. Just like with the previous two apologizes I hadn’t felt wronged. In fact, I can’t wait to go back to the restaurant again.

In one week I received three unexpected apologies. Besides the warm feelings they gave me I also received a life lesson. When in doubt if I’ve caused someone distress it pays to err on the side of sensitivity. True, I might open myself to an escalation of anger or accusations by mentioning the subject, but more likely than not, I’ll be responsible for nothing more than creating good feelings.

Reminder my novel, Growing With my Cousin, is available on-line at http://www.feldheim.com/growing-with-my-cousin.html or

https://www.amazon.com/Growing-Cousin-Ester-Katz-Silvers/dp/194635113X/