It was a cold, wintry night in Ohio when homes used coal for fuel. One home had only enough to make it till dawn. Young Mary, who writes this story, tells us her family was going through hard times as her Dad had lost his job.
As she sat around the kitchen table with her parents, there was talk that she and her eight siblings might have to go to the Children’s Home on the morrow. They could only hope the relief truck would come in the morning. But there was no guarantee. It was then they decided to say a Rosary.
As they finished, there was the rumble of a motor in the lane. The coal truck! Mary’s Dad ran out to help unload. Back in, he remarked, “Funny, I’ve never seen that man, and he didn’t give me a paper to sign or anything.”
That night they slept warm, and worriless. But next morning there was the coal truck again. Mary’s Mom informed the driver, a cousin, that they had a delivery the night before.
The cousin chuckled, “Mine is the only relief truck in the area…If you got a load last night, St. Joseph must have brought it!”
Mary’s family never knew who the delivery man was…It didn’t help that they never got a bill.