Our approach to forgiveness is often a delicate and fear-filled task. What is it that makes it so difficult to approach someone and ask for forgiveness? Is it the subsequent necessity of admitting we were wrong? Why is it equally difficult to pardon someone for their wrongdoings toward us? Are we unable to accept the imperfection of our fellow humans and the realization that we all make mistakes?

Might the notion of humanity and the imperfection of our world be our greatest lesson within the 25 hours of Yom Kippur? As we pray to G-d to forgive us for all our sins in the year past, can we also learn to be more merciful in our relationships with others? If we are created in G-d's image and our ardent task in life is to perfect this imperfect world, are we not also responsible for forgiving others as G-d forgives us?

Or, perhaps even beneath the lessons of forgiveness is the challenge to restrain ourselves, to guard our own behavior and to ensure that next year, we have fewer sins we are asking G-d's forgiveness for. Perhaps the greatest lesson we can leave Yom Kippur with is the inspiration to improve our relationships and to increase the merits we bring into the world.

My mom recently told me about an activity she did with her kindergarten class to teach the importance of treating others nicely. She would begin by showing the children a picture of someone whom they did not know, and she would invite them to say "bad things" about this person. At first, the children were reluctant because they knew they were not supposed to say mean things about someone. But, with my mom's encouragement and initiating the "mean statements", they began to contribute. "You are ugly." "I don't like girls with black hair." "You look stupid."

Every time a student made a mean comment, my mom would take the photo and fold it in half. Soon, the photo was a teeny tiny crumble of nothing. When people hear negative statements about themselves over and over again, they soon feel like that tiny bit of crumbled paper.

Sometimes, we make mistakes - we say or do something mean. In our own anger, frustration or fear, we lash out - especially at those we love - and we hurt others. When my mom stopped the negative statements and asked the children to talk about ways to express their remorse, she would unfold the photo each time a child uttered an apology. "I'm sorry I said mean things." "I didn't mean to hurt you." "Please accept my apology."

At the end of the exercise, the children looked at the photo. It was as it had been in the beginning of this exercise - except - the fold lines left wrinkles on the photo. Despite the fact that the children had offered their apologies for the negative statements they had made, those statements could not be erased entirely.

The lesson for us all - from this activity as well as from our prayers during Yom Kippur - is to work on ourselves. There is always something we can to do improve the way we treat others, the way we treat the Earth and the way we treat ourselves. By focusing on our actions throughout the year, we can come before G-d next Yom Kippur with fewer sins we need to seek forgiveness for.