A Letter

At the local post office there was a particular staff member whose job was to sort through mail with illegible or invalid addresses. This day he came across an envelope that read, in a black, shaky script: To God. 

He flipped it over and gently slit the letter open. Its contents read:

Dear God,
I am an 83-year-old pensioner. Yesterday my purse containing $100 got stolen and my next social security services check won't be coming till next month. My only two remaining friends will be coming over for a party this weekend. Without that $100, I won't be able to buy any food and throw a decent party for all of us. Please, God, help me. 

Without even finishing his sorting duties, the man began making a round about the post office showing his colleagues the letter he had just read. Each one of them, touched and sympathetic, dug deep into their pockets and came up with a couple of dollars each. Soon the total reached $96 and they mailed it to the old lady.

A few days later, another letter addressed to God came to the man. He called everyone over and they all eagerly crowded round to read over his shoulder. 

The letter was quite simple this time:

Dear God,
Thank you so much for helping me! Because of your generous help, I was able to have a wonderful time with my friends. However, there were $4 missing in your letter back. Must have been those thieving scoundrels at the post office. 

When it's a gift you've been given accept it. Say thank you politely, just like a child. By this time maybe you have a shell of makeup you wear like a mask, one you grew yourself from experience to keep yourself from hurt. When you can anticipate the future, be your prediction right or wrong, where's the point in even getting there in the end?