There was a man who worked for the Post Office whose job it was to
process all the mail that had illegible addresses.
One day just before Christmas, a letter landed on his desk, simply
addressed in shaky handwriting to "God".
With no other clue on the envelope, he opened the letter and read,
Dear God, I am an 83 year old widow living on the State pension.
Yesterday someone stole my purse. It had £100 in it, which was all
the money I had in the world and no pension due until after
Christmas.
Next week is Christmas and I had invited two of my friends over for
Xmas dinner. Without that money, I have nothing to buy food with.
I have no family to turn to, and you are my only hope. God; can you
please help me?"
The postal worker was really touched, and put a copy of the letter
up on the Staff Notice board, at the main sorting office where he
worked.
The letter touched the other postmen and they all dug into their
pockets and had a whip round. Between them they raised £96.
Using an official franked Post Office envelope, they sent the cash
on to the old lady, and for the rest of the day, all the workers
felt a warm glow thinking of the nice thing they had done.
Christmas came and went. A few days later, another letter simply
addressed to "God" landed in the Sorting Office. Many of the
postmen 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 generosity, I was able to provide a lovely
dinner for my friends. We had a very nice day, and I told my
friends of your wonderful gift - in fact we haven't gotten over it
and our Vicar is beside himself with joy.
By the way, there was £4 missing. I think it must have been those
thieving b@st @rds at the Post Office."
process all the mail that had illegible addresses.
One day just before Christmas, a letter landed on his desk, simply
addressed in shaky handwriting to "God".
With no other clue on the envelope, he opened the letter and read,
Dear God, I am an 83 year old widow living on the State pension.
Yesterday someone stole my purse. It had £100 in it, which was all
the money I had in the world and no pension due until after
Christmas.
Next week is Christmas and I had invited two of my friends over for
Xmas dinner. Without that money, I have nothing to buy food with.
I have no family to turn to, and you are my only hope. God; can you
please help me?"
The postal worker was really touched, and put a copy of the letter
up on the Staff Notice board, at the main sorting office where he
worked.
The letter touched the other postmen and they all dug into their
pockets and had a whip round. Between them they raised £96.
Using an official franked Post Office envelope, they sent the cash
on to the old lady, and for the rest of the day, all the workers
felt a warm glow thinking of the nice thing they had done.
Christmas came and went. A few days later, another letter simply
addressed to "God" landed in the Sorting Office. Many of the
postmen 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 generosity, I was able to provide a lovely
dinner for my friends. We had a very nice day, and I told my
friends of your wonderful gift - in fact we haven't gotten over it
and our Vicar is beside himself with joy.
By the way, there was £4 missing. I think it must have been those
thieving b@st @rds at the Post Office."
