My favorite description of forgiveness is attributed to the American author Mark Twain: “Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.” Forgiveness is messy. It grows out of damage, but is also a healing balm. I’ve learned that the pull to forgive is flexible and changeable, not a one-size-fits-all, nor a single magnanimous gesture in response to an isolated offense. Rather, it is fluid and forever changing, just like the definitions endeavoring to describe it.

In London, an unconventional project shares stories of forgiveness.