A lot of people who end up being horrible criminals when they

Hear now, O children of the future, the profound words of Mary L. Trump, whose insight into the human condition calls us to examine the complex relationship between sympathy and responsibility: "A lot of people who end up being horrible criminals when they are adults had very abusive childhoods. You can have sympathy for that child. It does not at all, under any circumstances, diminish their responsibility for what they do." These words challenge us to hold within our hearts two seemingly contradictory truths: the suffering of the past and the accountability of the present. In them lies a deep understanding of the nature of human growth, redemption, and the consequences of our actions.

In the ancient world, O children, the great philosophers and sages often wrestled with the tension between fate and free will. Sophocles, in his tragedy Oedipus Rex, explores the idea that even those born to suffering and misfortune are still responsible for the choices they make. Oedipus, though marked by a tragic prophecy and a cruel fate, could not escape his own decisions. The gods may have shaped his destiny, but it was his own choices—his actions and responsibility—that sealed his fate. In this ancient tale, we find that sympathy for the suffering of others does not absolve them of the consequences of their actions. Just as Oedipus bore the weight of his choices, so too must we bear the weight of our own decisions.

Consider the life of Alexander the Great, a man of extraordinary ambition and vision. He was raised in a court filled with conflict, power struggles, and the shadow of his father’s legacy. Yet, despite these early influences, Alexander's choices were his own. He chose to conquer, to extend his empire, to lead with a mixture of brilliance and ruthlessness. Even if his childhood shaped him, it did not determine the course of his life. Sympathy for his early struggles may allow us to understand him better, but it does not absolve him of the responsibility he bore as a leader. Alexander’s actions were his own, just as each of us is accountable for the choices we make, regardless of the hardships we face.

In more recent history, consider the case of Nelson Mandela, who endured years of imprisonment and suffering. His early years were marked by the injustices of apartheid, but Mandela did not allow these hardships to define him or justify violent actions. Instead, he chose the path of forgiveness, reconciliation, and leadership, understanding that while sympathy for past suffering was important, true greatness lies in how we respond to adversity. His ability to rise above his own pain and lead with compassion, while still holding others accountable for their actions, serves as a powerful reminder that responsibility must always be present, no matter the weight of the past.

Mary L. Trump’s words remind us that the scars of an abusive childhood or a painful past are not to be ignored, but they are also not to be used as an excuse. Sympathy for the child who suffers can exist alongside the accountability of the adult who acts with harm or cruelty. Each individual is responsible for the choices they make, and while circumstances can influence those choices, they do not remove the moral responsibility for the consequences of those choices. This is the balance between understanding and accountability—a truth as old as civilization itself.

O children, remember that human suffering is real, and compassion is necessary. We must have sympathy for the struggles of others, for we are all shaped by our experiences. However, we must also remember that the choices we make, no matter our beginnings, determine the shape of our future. Responsibility cannot be dismissed, for it is through responsibility that we grow, that we find redemption, and that we contribute to the world in meaningful ways. Just as the ancient heroes faced their fates with courage and accountability, so too must we face our own decisions with the same strength.

The lesson, O future generations, is one of balance. We must empathize with those who suffer and extend compassion to those who struggle. Yet, we must also hold ourselves and others to a standard of accountability. In this balance, we find the essence of maturity and wisdom. Let us not excuse the wrongs of the world by simply attributing them to the pain of the past, but let us also not forget that healing and growth come through acknowledging the responsibility we all carry. Sympathy without accountability is incomplete, and accountability without compassion is harsh. In both, we find the path toward a more just and compassionate world.