Gratitude
A post office employee had the job of processing all the mail that had illegible addresses. One day a letter came through addressed in shaky handwriting to God. He thought he should open it to see what it was about. The letter read:
“Dear God, I am an 87-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. I invited two friends over for dinner next week. 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? Sincerely, Edna.”
The postal worker was touched. He showed the letter to the other workers. Each dug into his or her wallet and came up with a few dollars. By the time he made the rounds, he had collected $96. They put the money into an envelope and sent it to the woman. All the rest of the day the workers felt a warm glow, thinking of Edna and the dinner she’d be able to share with her friends.
The following week, another letter arrived at the post office from the same old lady, addressed 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 them of your wonderful gift. By the way, there was $4 missing. I think it was those guys at the post office.”
Cold out there
A friend in North Dakota near the Canadian border says their snow is about waist-deep and still falling. The temperature has dropped to zero and the north wind is close to gale force. Her husband has done nothing but look through the kitchen window andstare. She says that if it gets much worse, she may have to let him in.
Cold down there
Q: What sits on the bottom of the Arctic Ocean and shakes?
A: A nervous wreck.
This week’s blonde
A blonde woman was speeding down the road in her little red sports car.
Eventually she was pulled over by a female police officer, also a blonde.
The blonde cop asked to see the blonde driver’s license. She dug through her purse, getting progressively more agitated.
“What does it look like?” she asked.
The policewoman replied, “It’s square and it has your picture on it.”
The driver finally found a square mirror in her purse and looked at it. “Here it is,” she said.
The blonde officer looked at the mirror and then handed it back.
“Okay,” she said. “You can go. I didn’t realize you were a cop.”
Last words
To write with a broken pencil is pointless.