Subject: The Post Office

There was this fellow who worked for the Post Office 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,
"Oh, boy, better open this one and see what it's all about." So 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 2 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?

The postal worker was touched, and went around showing the letter to all
the others. 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 over to her. The rest of the day,
all the workers felt the warm glow of the kind thing they had done.
Christmas came and went and a few days later came another letter from
the old lady to God.

All 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 expletives at the Post Office.*
*edited for content