Letters from G*d

From Letters to G*d, by M. Berger and E B White

Now and then a child, seeing how close to heaven the tall buildings ascend writes a letter to G*d and posts it “care of the Woolworth building” or “care of the Empire State Building.” Sometimes the letter gets as far as the building manager’s office; more often it is waylaid by a practical clerk in the Post Office taken to the basement and piously burned along with scurrilous and obscene letters that fall into the hands of the Department.

We questioned Mr. McDonald over at the Post Office about the propriety of this treatment. “Well”, he said, “when we get a letter addressed to G*d, we classify it as misdirected. Supposed it ‘s addressed to G*d, care of the Chrysler Building. Now we know G*d isn’t at that address, so we—

“How?” we interrupted

Mr. McDonald faltered—”of course one good reason most of it never gets delivered is that, as a rule, G*d mail lacks proper postage”. Children believe that it will go through on faith alone.