There was a man who worked for the Royal Mail whose job it was to process all the mail that had illegible addresses.
One day, a letter came addressed in a shaky handwriting to God with no actual address or postcode.
He thought he should open it to see what it was about. The letter read:
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 payment.
Next Sunday is my birthday, and I had invited two of my friends over for dinner. Without that money, I have nothing to buy food with, have no family to turn to, and you are my only hope..
Please help me?
The mail worker was touched.
He showed the letter to all the other workers. Each one dug into his or her wallet and came up with a few pounds. 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 the workers felt a warm glow thinking of Edna and the dinner she would be able to share with her friends.
A few days later, another letter came addressed to God and in the same hand.
All the workers gathered around while the letter was opened. It read:
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 might have been those bastards at the post office.