The following Sunday, at daybreak, he began to write a letter which he himself would carry to town and place in the mail. It was nothing less than a letter to God. “God,” he wrote,
“if you don’t help me, my family and I will go hungry this year. I need a hundred pesos in order to sow my field again and to live until the crop comes, because the hailstorm....”
Csúszik: 2
At the post office, he placed a stamp on the letter and dropped it into the mailbox. One of the employees, who was a postman and also helped at the post office, went to his boss laughing heartily and showed him the letter to God.
Csúszik: 3
Never in his career as a postman had he known that address. The postmaster also broke out laughing,
Csúszik: 4
He wrote ‘To God’ on the envelope, put the letter inside and, still troubled, went to town.
But almost immediately he turned serious and, tapping the letter on his desk, commented,
“What faith! I wish I had the faith of the man who wrote this letter. Starting up a correspondence with God!”
Csúszik: 5
So, in order not to shake the writer’s faith in God, the postmaster came up with an idea: answer the letter. But when he opened it, it was evident that to answer it he needed something more than goodwill, ink and paper. But he stuck to his resolution: he asked for money from his employees, he himself gave part of his salary, and several friends of his were obliged to give something ‘for an act of charity’.
Csúszik: 6
It was impossible for him to gather together the hundred pesos, so he was able to send the farmer only a little more than half. He put the money in an envelope addressed to Lencho and with it a letter containing only a single word as a signature: God.