The Missing Money.

They looked to the East for a sign.

YesterdayI was involved in getting the Christmas cards that we will send to friends and loved ones ready and addressed. It is a fairly emotional time and a task that is not always as simple as it seems.

The spreadsheet from last year is opened up and the list is checked as best as can be. So much happens in a year. Some very dear friends have to be removed from the list because they have dies in the past year. Some are no longer at home but confined to a retirement home and others confined to bed. The awareness of the ever-changing movement of life.

I have a nephew who works for the Royal Mail, and this is a very busy time for them. Thinking of this yesterday as I spoke with his parents about how his job was going, I remembered the time I worked in the post office sorting room for the weeks running up to Christmas. it was a job I got because I was at university and had some free time at this time of year. The job was not as easy as it sounded when offered to me. I started work at eight pm and worked through the night, standing before a rack of boxes and huge baskets of mail waiting to be sorted for individual postal addresses, even when there was no postal number of the envelope. 

The upside of the job was the sense of camaraderie among fellow workers and the many little laughs we got over some of the addresses on the front of cards.

Such as, Mrs Forsyth, a little old lady who lives somewhere in Rosyth. Amazingly it was so often the case that some postman would know the little old lady and she would receive her card. 

There is a lovely true tale that comes from just one such sorting office worthy of telling at this time. 

George worked in the sorting office and it fell to him to attempt to sort out the strange addressed mail. One day a letter arrived addressed simply to, "God." George opened it and read,

Dear God, 

I am a 93-year-old widow living on the State pension.  Yesterday someone stole my purse.  It had £100 in it, which was all the money I had in the world and no pension due until after Christmas.  Next week is Christmas and I had invited two of my friends over for Christmas lunch.  Without that money, I have nothing to buy food with.  I have no family to turn to, and you are my only hope.  God; can you please help me?

George was really touched, and being kind-hearted, he put a copy of the letter up on the staff notice board.  The letter touched the other postmen and they all dug into their pockets and had a whip round.  Between them they raised £95.  

Using an officially franked Post Office envelope, they sent the cash on to the old lady, and for the rest of the day, all the workers felt a warm glow thinking of the nice thing they had done.

Christmas came and went.  A few days later, another letter simply addressed to 'God' landed in the Sorting Office.  Many of the postmen gathered around while George opened the letter.  It read, 

Dear God, 

How can I ever thank you enough for what you did for me? Because of your generosity, I was able to provide a lovely lunch for my friends.  We had a very nice day, and I told my friends of your wonderful gift - in fact, we haven't got over it and even Father John, our parish priest, is beside himself with joy.  

P.S. By the way, there was £5  missing.  I think it must have been those thieving fellows at the Post Office.

George could not help musing on Oscar Wilde's quote: "A good deed never goes unpunished'"

There is no doubt that this time of year can have its joys and its sorrows but one thing I have found to be true that at this time of year like no other the little acts of kindness that cost us little, often no more than time, can bring an excessive amount of joy to others. 

It is, let me assure you a very good time to give thought to how you can in tiny little ways make a difference to others. If you get a knockback on some occasions, so what, it is still worth the time. 

Have fun with the greeting cards and the "Little Moments of Joj," in your power to give.

Have a wonderful day.