Born in Poland, my mother did not have the means to support a child and abandoned me. I grew up in a small orphanage outside Wroclaw and worked until I raised enough money to travel to the United States. Shortly after I arrived in Queens, I was hit by a taxi cab. The driver fled. I was hospitalized for 3 months after the accident, and I learned to cope with my anger and paralysis. During that time, the taxi driver came and apologized. We soon became good friends, and I developed a relationship with Basheer. Unfortunately, he was diagnosed with AIDS and passed away. I am glad I forgave him the day he came into the hospital. I will always remember Basheer, and the good times we had. If I would have never forgiven him, I would not be as happy as I am today.
Submitted by Anonymous
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