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February 27, 2018

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February 5, 2018

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June 27, 2017

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April 3, 2017

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February 15, 2017

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September 23, 2016

Going postal

June 23, 2016

Wally was a postal worker who worked in the dead letter office. One Wednesday afternoon, a letter arrived addressed to God in shaky handwriting. Wally opened it and read:

Dear God,

I am an 81 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. Two of my dearest friends are coming to my house for dinner on Sunday, but without that money, I have nothing to buy food with. I have no family to turn to, and you are my only hope. Please help me.



Wally was deeply moved. He showed the letter to his fellow workers, and they all decided to take up a collection to help the widow. When everyone had contributed, they had $95, which Wally put into an envelope and mailed to her.

On Tuesday of the following week, another letter arrived, addressed to God in the same shaky handwriting. All of the workers gathered around while the letter was opened. It read:

Dear God,

I can never thank you enough for what you did for me! Because of your gift, I was able to make a wonderful dinner for my friends. We had a lovely time, and I told them about what you had done for me. Thank you, thank you, thank you!



p.s. There was $5 missing. I think it must have been those thieves at the post office.

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