In a small village in Portugal, every house had a different colored door.
One door was painted red.
Another blue.
Another yellow.
A traveler asked an elderly woman why.
She explained that every family painted its door a different color to celebrate something important.
One represented love.
One represented hope.
One represented friendship.
One represented new beginnings.
The traveler asked about her green door.
She smiled.
“Mine represents forgiveness.”
“Why?”
“Because everyone needs another chance.”
The traveler remembered that answer for years.
Eventually, whenever he visited a new country, he looked at doors differently.
Not as entrances.
As stories.
