In the moment I became an orphan, I learn something— something priceless and powerful
“Whatever you do, Zechariah, do not say, ‘I’m sorry,’ ” my rebbi says to me as we board the plane.
“Of course not,” I reply.
“Do not say, ‘I’m sorry,’ ” my rebbi whispers while the flight attendant gives her seatbelt-buckling presentation.
“I won’t,” I whisper back.
“Do not say, ‘I’m sorry,’ ” he says as we get into the cab.
“Got it,” I assure him.
As we walk up the driveway to the house, he looks me straight in the eye and says very sternly, “Remember, do not say, ‘I’m sorry.’ ”
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