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RUBY RIDGE SHOOTOUT, 1992 _Sara Weaver, 47, was 16 in 1992 when an 11-day standoff between her family and the federal government at Ruby Ridge, near Naples, Idaho, left her mother, younger

brother and a U.S. marshal dead, and turned her father, Randy, into a reluctant anti-government folk hero._ After the horrific days of 1992, I had a lot of grief and deep depression. I’d

witnessed things no 16-year-old should. My mom and brother were gone, and my dad was in jail. Our family was demonized in the media; I felt I had no voice. I was living with relatives in

Iowa and thrust into public school after being homeschooled. I didn’t always want to be associated with Ruby Ridge. I tried to find my happiness by working hard, being a 4.0 student, getting

married, starting a family, building a house and moving on. But I still wasn’t happy. I felt I had tried it all and was still miserable. During this time, my son was a baby, and I didn’t

want to leave him motherless. Because I had lost my mom, I knew how terrible that was, to not have that support system. One very hard day, I thought, _What would my mom do?_ She would read

her Bible. And so I went and dug out my Sunday school Bible. I remembered that at our church in Iowa, if I memorized a verse, I earned a piece of candy. In that moment I remembered the verse

I had memorized at age 7 — John 3:16. I turned to it, and as I read, the weight of the world came off my shoulders. That began my walk of faith. When you go through really hard things, when

your loved ones have made sacrifices or you’ve made them, you want to know that this wasn’t for nothing. That there’s purpose in what you endured. I’ve spent my life looking for that

purpose and found my purpose in God. But I also found it in talking to other people about what they’ve experienced. Listening to their testimonies, hearing their struggles, acknowledging,

“Hey, you are not alone.” My dad died last spring at age 74, and I received so many messages from people who were touched in a deep way by our story. One gentleman wrote with his condolences

to say, “Knowing people like you are out there makes the world seem like a better place.” It’s the same humbling reaction I get when I share my story at different book signings [she’s

written a book called _From Ruby Ridge to Freedom_], church functions, speaking engagements or fundraisers. Practicing forgiveness is another crucial part of my story that others relate to.

I feel incredibly blessed to be a beacon to others as I take my own healing journey. If anyone’s experienced trauma, they know I can relate to them. I can see them. I now know that there is

always hope and that though we sometimes feel like it, we are never truly alone. HOLOCAUST, 1944-1945 _Sent to Auschwitz in 1944 as a teenager with her family, Edith Eger, now 96, was

plucked from the brink after an American soldier spotted her hand moving among dead bodies. Today Eger is a psychologist and best-selling author._ People are surprised, because I lived

through hell, that I am an optimist. Even if you’ve suffered something unimaginable, you have the choice to heal. When I was in Auschwitz, I didn’t know what would happen from minute to

minute. If I took a shower, I didn’t know if gas or water would come out. But the experience gave me hope that everything is temporary and that if we survive today, tomorrow we can be free.

It would be so easy to get stuck on the what-ifs in my life. What if my parents had used the tickets they purchased and come to America? They wouldn’t have died in the gas chambers. They

should have left, but you can’t change the past. When something happens that you don’t like, you have to accept it and figure out how not to repeat it. Part of that involves forgiveness.

Forgiveness has nothing to do with me forgiving you for what you did to me. I don’t have any godly power. However, if I get rid of the part of me that keeps me a prisoner of anger and

resentment, a prisoner of the past, then I can have room for love, joy and passion in my life. I tell people that if you have trouble releasing someone who has hurt you, it’s probably

because you’re holding on to guilt or shame or judgment toward yourself. If you treat yourself with a gentle embrace, you free yourself from so much suffering. Some people call me a shrink,

but I’d rather be a stretch. I stretch people’s comfort zone. I help show things from a different perspective. For example, there are no problems. There are only challenges. There are no

crises. There are only transitions. Nobody makes you happy. You make you happy. I have three children, seven grandchildren and five great-grandsons. My wish for them is to be active in

building a world where we can empower one another with our differences. I urge them to negotiate, to compromise. I am all for cooperation, not domination. But life is never going to be

perfect, and just like you can’t get mired in the past, you can’t get hung up on the future. Scarlett O’Hara said that tomorrow is another day, but I look at what we can do today. Every

moment is precious. The sun coming in my window. The smiles of my grandchildren. This conversation. If you think about it, this is all we have.