Forgetting injuries

My daughter, the forgetting of injuries is the perfection of the soul, just as the pardon of the wounds done to the truth is the perfection of the Spirit. It was easier for Jesus to pardon the outrages of his Passion than for the least of you to pardon a slight mockery. The great soul of the Savior, accustomed to gentleness, conceived neither bitterness nor vengeance; ours, struck by insignificant things, forget what is great. Daily, men implore the pardon of God, which descends upon them like a beneficent dew; but their hearts forget that word ceaselessly repeated in prayer. In truth I say to you: the inner gall corrupts the soul; it is the bulky stone that fixes it to the ground and retards its elevation. When you are reproved, enter into yourselves; examine your inner sin, that which the world ignores; measure its depth and cure your vanity through the knowledge of your wretchedness. If, more grave, the offense reaches the heart, lament the unfortunate one who committed it, as you lament the wounded man whose open wound lets the blood flow; pity is owed to him who annihilates his future being. In the Garden of Olives Jesus knew human pain, but he always ignored the bitterness of pride and the pettiness of vanity; he was incarnated to show men the prototype of the moral beauty that was to serve them as a model: never turn away from it. Mold your souls like soft wax and make your transformed clay become an imperishable marble, on which God, the great sculptor, may inscribe his name. Lazarus.