This is a great story anonymously posted in Random Acts of Kindness about forgiveness and learning to forgive ourselves:
I went back to Vietnam last year. I'm not really sure why I went -- it just seemed important that I go. When I think about it now, I think I went back to try to find something that I had lost there 23 years ago. It was a very strange trip, very disorienting. So much had changed and so much was exactly as it had been. I was there for five days, and most of the time I just wandered around in a fog -- to places where I had spent time, places I had fought. On the last day, I was taking a cab to the airport, and the taxi driver started talking to me. He obviously knew I was American, and he asked me if I had fought in Vietnam. When I said yes, I was overcome with grief. As I handed him his money at the airport, he held on to my hand for a moment and said, "I was your enemy, but now I am your friend."
On the flight back I felt more alive than I had in years. If that cab driver in Ho Chi Minh City could hold my hand as a friend, then maybe I could be my friend as well.