What I love about 'This Morning' is that they get all walks of

Hear now the voice of Kerry Katona, who, through trial and flame, uttered these words: “What I love about This Morning is that they get all walks of life on there and they give everyone a second chance, I’m eternally grateful for that.” In her confession is found a timeless truth: that no soul is forever lost, no spirit too broken, no story too dark to be renewed beneath the light of compassion. The stage of This Morning, though adorned with cameras and couches, becomes in her telling a sanctuary, a place where the fallen may rise again, and where mercy breathes life into those who feared they were forgotten.

From the dawn of history, mankind has sought the grace of the second chance. The ancients spoke of it through myths of rebirth and renewal. Did not the phoenix, consumed by fire, rise anew from its ashes, more radiant than before? Did not Odysseus, after years of wandering and error, return at last to his home, weathered but wiser? In these stories, as in Katona’s gratitude, lies the eternal lesson: life’s worth is not measured in perfection, but in the courage to begin again when all seems lost.

The mention of all walks of life holds a power of its own. For it proclaims that dignity belongs not to the few, but to the many; that the throne and the hovel alike produce hearts in need of grace. To see the beggar, the addict, the celebrity, the mother, the broken and the triumphant, all seated within the same circle of listening, is to glimpse the unity of humanity. Where judgment would divide, mercy gathers. Where society casts away, a hand is extended. This is what Katona cherishes: the vision of a world where no one is denied the chance to speak, to heal, to transform.

Consider, as a mirror to her words, the tale of Emperor Ashoka of India. Once a fierce conqueror, his hands soaked in blood after the war of Kalinga, he looked upon the desolation he had wrought and wept. Yet in that hour he was not lost. He turned to the path of dharma, embracing compassion and truth, and became remembered not as the tyrant of death, but as the beloved king of peace. His empire endured not because of conquest, but because he seized the gift of a second chance. His story teaches us that even the most grievous errors may become the soil of redemption if one dares to change.

In Katona’s own life, marred by struggles with addiction, scandal, and public scorn, the grace of renewal was not mere abstraction, but salvation. To be welcomed on This Morning was for her not simply to appear on a screen, but to be seen as human once more—to be offered dignity where there had been derision. Her eternal gratitude flows from the recognition that platforms of compassion do not only lift reputations; they resurrect the soul.

The lesson, then, is plain: never turn away from one who stumbles, for you too may stumble in time. Seek instead to build spaces, like This Morning, where voices from every path may be heard, where mistakes are not chains but lessons, and where second chances are offered as freely as bread to the hungry. If you are the one in need, accept that mercy without shame, and let gratitude guide your steps forward.

Practically, you must live this truth daily. When you meet others, do not fix them in the cage of their past. Offer encouragement where others mock. Extend patience where others condemn. If you fall, do not linger in the dust, but rise with courage, and be thankful for the chance to walk anew. Remember always that renewal is the rhythm of life itself: the dawn follows the night, spring follows the frost, and the heart, when nourished, blooms again after ruin.

And so, O listener, engrave this upon your soul: to give a man or woman a second chance is to mirror the mercy of the eternal. To accept such a chance with gratitude is to step into the light of wisdom. May your life, then, be a living testament of compassion—lifting others, and lifting yourself—so that all walks of life may know they too can rise again.