The River We Remember

by William Kent Krueger

And praying? In a way, it was like singing. It made her feel better sometimes, but it didn’t change a hard thing and she didn’t really believe anyone was listening. What she believed was that goodness and badness came out of people because of how they were treated. And if you wanted goodness from others, that’s what you let come out of you. And the badness? Well, sometimes it slipped out, too, because no one was all one thing or another, but you forgave yourself when you were not who you wanted to be and you did the same with others. It was a pretty simple way of being, but it was one she could understand and believe in and follow.