Something that came to me a while ago. I finaly took the time to post it :D
Forgiveness is a thing to be grateful for.
When I returned to London after having being thought dead for three years, I did not expect to be welcomed home. To be perfectly honest, I feared the opposite. How could Watson accept me back with joy when I had, in a sense, lied to him for three whole years? I expected him to be angry, to throw me out even. What I did not expect was for him to faint dead away upon seeing me. I cringed at this; surely I had just dug myself even deeper in his resentment for me. But after he came to, he did not yell at me, nor did he throw me out like I am sure I deserved. Instead, he was extraordinarily glad to see me. If he felt hurt by my not trusting him with the knowledge that I had survived, he tried not to show it. Never in my life have I deserved such a friend as he, even less so at that moment. But a friend he was, and continued to be. He readily forgave me for deceiving him, and did not mention it, even when I'm sure lesser men would have given in to the temptation to do so.
He is a better man then I will ever be, although he does not perceive himself as such. No greater man will I ever know, or wish to know; my best friend. Dr. John. H. Watson.
Please read and review :)
Jfreak