The Boy's at Án Post

Here is a little story to warm your heart. I’ve simply called it

The Boy’s at An Post.

Once upon a time not that long ago the sorting office for An Post was relocated from the local post office to a central location in Athlone. There was a fellah working there whose job it was to process all the mail that had illegible addresses.

One day a letter came to his desk addressed to God in very shaky handwriting. He looked at it and thought to himself “I’d better open this one and see what it’s all about”

When he opened it he began to read. It said,

“Dear God, I am an 83 year old widow living on a very small pension. Yesterday someone stole my purse, it had a hundred euros in it. It was all the money I had in the world and I won’t get my next pension cheque until after Christmas. I’ve invited two of my friends over for Christmas dinner so we won’t be lonely but without that money I won’t be able to buy any food. I have no family and no one to turn to, you’re my only hope. Can you please help me”

With a tear in his eye the postal worker went around the department and showed the letter to all his colleagues. Every one of them decided to put a couple of euros into an envelope and by the end of the day they had collected 95 euros. They sent it to the old woman’s address which was written on the top of the letter. All of them felt a warm glow because of the kind thing they had done.

Well Christmas came and went and after the holidays they had all returned to work when another letter came from the old woman. Once again it was addressed to god in the same shaky handwriting. All the workers gathered round while the letter was opened. It read,

“Dear God, how can I ever thank you enough for what you did for me. With the money you sent I was able to buy all the food and we had a lovely Christmas dinner. I told my two friends all about your wonderful gift. By the way, there was five euros missing, I think it must be those thieving fellahs at the sorting office”