Post Office

There was a postal worker whose job it was to process all the mail that had illegible addresses. One day, a letter came to his desk, addressed in a shaky handwriting, to God. He thought he should open it to see what it was about.

He opened it and read:

Dear God,

I am an 83-year-old widow, living on a very small pension. Yesterday someone stole my purse. It had $100 in it, which was all the money I had until my next pension check. Next Sunday is Christmas, and I had invited two of my friends over for dinner. Without that money, I have nothing to buy food with. I have no family to turn to, and you are my only hope. Can you please help me?

Sincerely,
Edna

The postal worker was touched. He showed the letter to all of the workers. Each of them dug into his wallet and came up with a few dollars. By the time he made the rounds, he had collected $96, which they put into an envelope and sent to the woman.

The rest of the day, all of the workers felt a warm glow for the kind thing they had done.

Christmas came and went. A few days later, another letter came from the old lady, addressed to God. All of the workers gathered around while the letter was opened.

It read:

Dear God,

How can I ever thank you enough for what you did for me? Because of your gift of love, I was able to fix a glorious dinner for my friends. We had a very nice day, and I told my friends of your wonderful gift.

By the way, there was $4 missing. I think it must have been those thieving bastards at the Post Office.

Sincerely,
Edna