You’ve probably heard of the famous musical Les Misérables, based on the book by Victor Hugo. My mom, Sanam, and I went to go see it when we visited London together as a family about 15 years ago (my dad and Nikhil went to go see Chitty Chitty Bang Bang instead). I don’t really remember the specifics of Les Mis, but I do remember we loved it and that the songs were fantastic. I would definitely recommend seeing it — though not so much the movie (let’s be real, singing is not Russell Crowe’s strong point).

Anyway, watching this musical wasn’t just a fun and enjoyable experience — it was also a memorable one that would have an impact in years to come. Let me explain:

Les Mis is the story of Jean Valjean, a 19th century French peasant, and his quest for redemption. The plot begins with Jean being released on parole after having served 19 years in jail because he stole a loaf of bread for his starving nephew.

Soon after being released, Jean looks for work and lodging but is shunned wherever he goes. He ultimately encounters a bishop who kindly offers him food and a place to stay. Out of desperation and years of built-up bitterness, Jean takes advantage of the bishop’s generosity; he steals silverware from the bishop’s house and then flees. However, he soon gets captured by the police. Although given the opportunity to turn Jean in, the bishop instead tells the police that the stolen valuables were a gift from him to Jean. On top of this, the bishop even also gives Jean a pair of silver candlesticks.

Jean’s life is completely turned around as a result of this act of incredible mercy. He is so moved by the bishop’s actions that he resolves to abandon his criminal ways and live an honest life going forward. (And the story continues.)

Coming back to real life, and fast forwarding 12 years after we saw this musical (i.e. three years ago)… The details are unimportant, but the short story is that we were looking into buying a property, and a family member who offered to help us gained our trust and then cheated us out of a sizable sum of money.

We were, needless to say, shocked and horrified that a “family” member could do this. We tried to get the money back a few different ways, but without success — this individual was a con artist and was good at what he did.

A couple months later, when we were still trying to figure out how to address the situation, I had a talk with my mom about it. She said something that completely caught me off guard. She brought up Les Mis and the story of the bishop who chose to forgive Jean Valjean.

“What if,” she said, “we also choose to forgive in this situation?”

She went on to discuss the desperation involved in choosing to scam another family member, of all people. Perhaps this family member was just that desperate for the money. And although the money was ours, we could do without it. The thievery was certainly not justified, and therefore we had made some effort in trying to recover the money, but perhaps now this was a chance for us to extend mercy.

At the time, I remember thinking that my mom was being ridiculous. I know I pushed back, but I don’t quite remember the discussion that ensued. Ultimately, though, we didn’t pursue the issue any further.

Several months ago, Nikhil encountered a somewhat similar situation, and I was reminded of my mom’s choice to forgive despite having been so wronged by another. This time though, I recognized how incredibly moving — and not ridiculous — my mom’s decision had been.

What I learned from her decision: Seeking retribution is always the easier choice. I almost wonder whether there is some inbuilt reflex that humans have to seek out vengeance when we’ve been wronged. Perhaps for all of us, it’s the default response — it’s the easier choice.

How different might the world look if we chose to forgive, though, like the bishop did for Jean Valjean and my mom did for our family member. It could change lives; no, it would change lives. Perhaps 99% of the time, the person whom we chose to forgive — be it a thief or con artist or family member or friend — would either not know (for instance, we never reached out to the family member to say, “It’s okay”), or would think, Ha! I’ve made a fool of you (which our family member may have thought) — but what about that other 1%?

Perhaps it would result in a person’s life being turned around, like Jean Valjean’s. Perhaps the mercy and forgiveness would be so moving that the person would forever change for the better. And perhaps when it came time for this person to possibly forgive someone else, he too would choose to forgive, and yet another person’s life would be changed.

My mom was not advocating that we let people take advantage of us. Every situation is different, and judgment should be exercised in each one. It’s not black or white.

But she also knew that forgiveness is a choice. Some, many, perceive it as the weaker choice. But it is not. It’s the stronger, much harder choice, and it’s also the choice that has the potential to change a person’s life.