A big burly man knocked on the door of the pastor’s house one day
and asked to see the minister’s wife, a woman known for her charity work and
her love for the poor and helpless.
The woman opened the door and saw the man had tears streaming down
his face.
“Oh, whatever is the matter?” she cried out.
“I came to you today, dear madam for the purpose of doing charity
and good work.” said the man in a hopeless voice.
“Come in, come in!” the woman admitted him inside and they sat in
her living room.
“Madam,” said the man in a broken voice. “I wish to draw your
attention to the terrible plight of a poor family in the district. The father
is dead, the mother is too ill to work and the nine children are starving. They
are about to be turned into the cold empty streets unless someone pays their
rent which amounts to Rs.2000/-
“How terrible!” exclaimed the preacher’s wife. “May I ask who you
are?”
The sympathetic visitor applied his handkerchief to his eyes, “I
am the landlord,” he sobbed.
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