“Dear God, I’m an 85-year-old widow living on a small pension. Someone stole my purse with $120, all I had until my next check. Next Sunday is Christmas, and I invited my friends for dinner. Without that money, I can’t buy food. You’re my only hope. Please help me. Sincerely, Martha.”
Moved by the letter, the woman couldn’t get Martha’s words out of her mind. She decided to share it with her coworkers. As she read the letter aloud, everyone grew quiet. One by one, they started pulling out their wallets.
“I can pitch in $5,” said one. “Here’s $10,” added another. Bit by bit, they pooled their money until they had $116—almost the full amount Martha needed.
They placed the money in an envelope and sent it anonymously to her address. For the rest of the day, they couldn’t help but smile, imagining Martha’s surprise and the joy she’d feel knowing someone cared. It was the kind of warmth that reminded them what Christmas was all about.
After Christmas, another letter from Martha arrived. Curious, the workers gathered to read it:
“Dear God, Thank you for your kindness. Because of your gift of love, I had a wonderful dinner with my friends. P.S. There was $4 missing. I bet those thieves at the post office took it.”
The room fell into silence before someone let out a chuckle. Soon, laughter filled the space.
“Well, that’s gratitude for you!” one worker joked, shaking his head.
But the woman who had first read Martha’s letter couldn’t stop thinking about it. Was Martha always this skeptical, or had life made her this way? Either way, she felt oddly compelled to check in on the old woman.
So, on her next day off, she found Martha’s address and paid her a visit. The apartment was small but tidy, filled with the smell of cinnamon and old books. Martha opened the door, eyeing her visitor with suspicion.
“Can I help you?” she asked, gripping her shawl.
The woman smiled. “Hi, I work at the post office. I just wanted to check in and see how your Christmas went.”
Martha hesitated, then sighed and stepped aside. “Come in, then. But if you’re selling something, I’m not buying.”
“I promise I’m not.”
The woman sat down at the small kitchen table while Martha poured tea. “So, you had a good Christmas?”
Martha sighed, stirring her tea. “Yes, but something funny happened. I wrote a letter to God, and wouldn’t you know it? He sent me almost exactly what I needed!”
“That’s amazing,” the woman said carefully.
Martha nodded, but her expression darkened. “Almost all of it. But I know the post office must have taken the last $4. They always take what they can.”
The woman bit her lip to keep from laughing but decided to dig a little deeper. “Why do you think that?”
Martha set her cup down with a thud. “Because people take what they can in this world. I know that firsthand. I used to believe in the goodness of people, but time changes you. My husband and I ran a small bakery for years. We gave to anyone who was hungry. Then, one day, we were robbed. Cleaned us out. After that, we had to close. He passed a year later. People take, and they don’t care.”
The woman felt a lump in her throat. “I’m sorry that happened. But… don’t you think it’s possible someone was trying to help you this time?”
Martha scoffed. “God helped me, dear. Not people. People don’t just give without expecting something in return.”
The woman smiled. “I think you’d be surprised.”
She didn’t reveal the truth but left Martha with a warm goodbye. The encounter stayed with her, and she couldn’t help but share it with her coworkers.
“She still thinks we stole the $4?” one laughed. “Unbelievable!”
“Maybe she just needs to see the good in people again,” another said thoughtfully.
That gave them an idea. Over the next few months, they continued sending Martha small anonymous gifts—flowers, baked goods, warm blankets. Each time, she received them with suspicion but always wrote another letter to God, thanking Him for His continued kindness.
Then, one day, a final letter arrived at the post office.
“Dear God, I don’t know what I did to deserve Your continued blessings, but thank You. I thought the world had given up on kindness, but You keep proving me wrong. I used to think people only took, but now I see—maybe I was looking in the wrong places. Maybe kindness is quieter than I thought.
Sincerely, Martha.”
The workers read the letter and smiled. They never told her the truth, but they didn’t need to. She had found her way back to believing in people again, and that was the best gift they could have given her.
Moral of the Story:
Sometimes, life makes us skeptical, but kindness is all around us if we choose to see it. And when we give without expecting anything in return, we help people rediscover their faith—not just in God, but in humanity, too.
If this story warmed your heart, share it with someone who needs a little faith restored in the world. ❤️
