Courtesy huffingtonpost.com

Dear God, the letter read I came across on my jog. I felt nosy reading some child’s correspondence with The Big Guy. I found it endearing, but it also troubled me. As a postal worker, I knew what would come of it. Dead letter pile. I couldn’t let that happen. With two parents out of work and a brother with cancer, this youngster needed some help! Back home, I called my boss. I explained the situation. “We’re really not hiring,” he said, “but we can find something.” Another call, remembering our church secretary just quit. He works in mysterious ways.