I used to know an old martial arts teacher. Strict man. One day, a boy in his class lied—said he was sick, but really just skipped training to play games. The teacher found out. I thought he’d be furious. But no. He just handed the boy a broom and said, “Sweep the yard for a few days.”

No shouting. No blame. Just silence and work. On the third day, the boy came up and said, “I’m sorry. I was scared, so I lied.” The teacher nodded and said, “We all get scared. But knowing how to make things right—that’s what matters.”

I think about that often.

I’ve had moments like that too—holding on tight to what’s wrong, chasing every little mistake, thinking I’m doing what’s right. But the tighter I hold, the heavier it feels.

I’m not angry at myself. I know I meant well. It’s just... sometimes, being too harsh shuts people down. And maybe what they really need isn’t a lesson in fear—but a chance to grow.

Some lessons don’t need loud words. Just presence. Just patience. And a little bit of heart.