In the last few weeks there has been a diatribe churning in my head. For no cause worth dignifying with an excuse, I thought badly about someone. This person was wrong.

Then a man whom I respect told me about the wider circumstances. One word in particular cracked open the story with the force of a crowbar. The target of my opinions was not simply wrong. They were wronged. 

In a day or two we were face to face, and though there was probably no evidence of a shift in my behavior, my heart was softened. Instead of judgments, I felt a surge of compassion. I weep even now at any weight my unspoken words may have added to an already bruised soul. Even two letter would have been too much. 

"Hm."

Who am I to declare a verdict however mute about the secret strife of a fellow traveler stumbling on this path? 

As God would have it, there is another person in the queue for my blasted Opinions. 

Maybe I will remember sooner this time.