"I desire to be humbled before God for that sad and humbling experience that befell my father�s family in the year about �92..." The pastor continued to read my apology aloud. I stood in front of the church, my hands clasped tightly in front of me, staring at the wooden cross. "And particularly as I was a chief instrument of accusing of Goodwife Nurse and her two sisters, I desire to lie in the dust and be humbled for it."

My eyes, filled with tears I refused to let fall, were turned, unfocused, toward the ground. The patterns on the ground swirled and melted together through my tears. As much pain as this is causing me, however, I still feel better about it than anything else I�ve ever done. The guilt that has been plaguing me for almost fifteen years is dissipating a bit now, but I am still haunted by the memories of the people I helped to kill.

"Do you acknowledge this apology and your signature in this book Ann Putnam?"

"I do Father."

"Let it be marked that this apology is hereby written in the church record and signed on the twenty-fifth of August in the year seventeen hundred and six. You may be seated Ann."

I walked slowly back to the pew and awaited the end of the sermon. My thoughts wandered as I sat.

It had been so easy. Doing exactly what they told me to do, I had caused the hangings of nineteen people, and the pressing to death of poor Giles Corey. I had learned months later of his cries for more weight and had been ill. I had done this to these people; I pointed my finger at the poor, the strange, the innocent, and they had died. Their families were devastated because of me and my family and friends. They had made it sound okay to me as a twelve year old little girl. They told me that God would punish me if I didn�t do what they told me to do. I didn�t realize that God would punish me for helping their cause. I had thought it was fun. I was too young to understand the implications of my actions or their deaths. My parents told me who to accuse each day, and my friends and I, as well as my mother, figured out just what to say in order to convict the accused. We learned when to moan and when to cry out. We knew what to say to make the judges believe we actually saw "apparitions," and we could bite and pinch each other so subtly that no one else noticed. I had played along like a fool and will never be able to fix what I did. Every morning I awake guilty and ashamed. I pray that God will show me some way to help the families of those I had helped to kill. I pray my parents will forgive me for resenting the sins they forced me to commit. I pray that God will forgive them for their sins and allow me to do the same. I pray for forgiveness from God, and from those families I hurt so badly. "Amen." I stood with the rest of the parishioners and began to make my way out of the church. I was stopped almost immediately by members of the Parker family.

"Oh Ann, dear, how are you?"

"Very well, thank you. How is your family?"

"We�re doing well. We just wanted to thank you for your help. The children love their new clothes, and the canning is only finished thanks be to you. Why, you must have spent months at our house helping to save our crops, and weeks mending and sewing clothes for us and the children."

"Thank you for allowing me to try to make amends. I feel that I could never do enough to redeem myself."

"Well, you�ve certainly shown your true heart and true remorse."

I said goodbye to the Parkers, and had no more than taken one step before I was stopped again by Rebecca Nurse�s daughter.

"Hello Ann, how are you and the family doing today?"

"Well, and you?"

"Oh just wonderful. I wanted to let you know that I have forgiven you for my mother�s death. As a Christian, I feel I mustn�t allow myself to be unforgiving, especially after all you�ve done to make restitution. You�re welcome in our home at any time."

"Thank you so much. This means a lot to me. Tell your family I said hello."

Since her mother died, her father had relied heavily upon her. I had tried to ease some of her load by preparing food for her father and watching her children. I had even taken it upon myself to help out in their fields since they were short on field hands. Although most considered it improper for me to be working in the fields, the help I provided had made it worthwhile.

I had spent the past seven years doing everything I could to try to earn forgiveness for my horrible sins. I had been my parents� pawn for so long that I hadn�t been able to do anything until after their deaths. Since then, I had done everything I could think of to try to repair some of the damage I had caused as a child.

It had made a difference. The glares and stares I had received while walking down the street changed to smiles and hellos. They spoke of me as a storyteller and blessing rather than a murderess. I had noticed that the children were getting wild and restless, and began to tell them stories while they worked. Everyone recognized that I was trying to make amends and had at least listened to my requests for forgiveness. Well, mostly everyone. Elizabeth Howe�s family had refused to listen to my pleas for forgiveness. They had isolated themselves and avoided me as much as they could. However, I had gotten through to many of the members of the community, and no longer hid my face in shame. I knew it would take more than I could possibly give to make up for the deaths of those men and women, but at least now I knew I had attempted to make a difference. My brothers and sisters and I once again tried to make our way out of the church. When we reached the door, we almost ran into Elizabeth Procter. I had done everything I could think of to apologize to her, but as both she and her husband were convicted, she refused to listen. She looked at me and said only one thing. "You have repented before God, and as Jesus died to save us from our sins He has forgiven you. I, as a Christian, must forgive you as well, but I can not and will not ever forget that you helped to kill my husband." With that, she walked away.

I walked into my house and suddenly relaxed. I realized that I had been nervous and tense all morning. I walked into the kitchen and began preparing dinner while my brothers and sisters changed from their Sunday clothes. Our parents hadn�t been poor, and had left me with plenty to provide for my siblings until they were established on their own. Looking back now, I realized why my parents had forced me to accuse the people they told me to accuse. They had had disagreements with my Uncle Joseph about property and money, and felt they were losing their social standing. In order to protect that, they accused people who sympathized with my uncle, and disagreed with my parents. I had never shared my beliefs with my siblings, but I knew they could tell I didn�t respect my parents� memory as much as I should. They understood, however, since I had been so affected by the experience.

"Sarah? Please help the girls get the food on the table. Thomas? Get you and your brothers washed up for dinner."

As my brothers and sisters and I sat down to eat, I heard a knock at the door. "You keep eating, I�ll answer the door."

I opened the door to see Elizabeth Howe�s blind widower and their two daughters, Mary and Abigail.

"Hello. Welcome, welcome. We were just sitting down to dinner, would you like to join us?"

They declined my invitation and got down to business.

" We need you to do us a favor."

"Sure, what do you need?"

I had waited for the opportunity to prove to them that I was truly sorry for seven years. It appeared I would finally have the chance.

"My father," the blind man began, "wishes to speak to you. He is on his deathbed, and has something he needs to tell you."

"I would be honored to speak with him.�

"We must leave immediately. Every moment is precious."

"Yes, of course. Just allow me to tell my family."

When we arrived at James Howe Senior�s home, I realized I was nervous.

"Are you sure he wishes to speak with me?"

"Yes. Right this way please."

I was lead into a darkened room. A large bed filled the center of the room, and an old frail man laid upon it. The drapes had been drawn, and you could barely make out the edges of the room.

"You wished to speak with me sir?"

"Ye..s." He croaked out softly. "I ne...need to tell you some..th...ing."

"Yes?"

"My son�s daughter was a good wo..man."

"I�m sure she was, and I am ashamed and very sorry I had a hand in her death." The tears I had refused earlier began to reappear.

"She want..ed to tell you� "

"Yes?"

"She wanted me to tell you she forgave you. You child..ren especially. She had a good heart and she knew it wasn�t your fault. She wante..ed me to give you this to re..mind you of her for..give..ness and in..spire you to do better. Here, take this."

He held out his shaking hand and placed something in mine. He felt soft, smooth and cool. I looked at what he had given me. It was a small statue of a young girl in prayer. Her eyes were closed and her hands clasped in front of her.

"It�s beautiful," I breathed softly.

"She car..ved it when she was young and wild. She want�ed you to have it ear..lier, but I want�ed you to find your own path before I gave it to you. My boy tells me you apolo�gized in church to�day, and I might not get� another chance to give this to you, so I felt I need..ed to give it to you now."

"Thank you, it�s wonderful."

"Let it remind you of Elizabeth and her sac..ri..fice and Jesus� sacri..fice for you."

"Thank you, I will remember always."

"You are wel..come. Now send in my boy and his daughters."

And with that I was dismissed. I walked back to my house, thinking about the meaning behind Elizabeth�s gift which was now clutched in my hand. She had forgiven me. She knew what I had done and had still forgiven me. I couldn�t imagine the purity of her soul. It made me realize just how deep the need to do something to help these people really was inside of me. I was going to spend the rest of my life trying to help those I had caused so much pain, and the rest of my life could never be enough.