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Ruth’s Hospitality

Ruth’s Hospitality

Ruth’s Hospitality Ruth went to her mailbox and there was only one letter. She picked it up and looked at it before opening, but then she looked at the envelope again. There was no stamp, no postmark, only her name and address. She read the letter: Dear Ruth, I’m going to be in your neighbourhood Saturday afternoon and I’d like to stop by for a visit. Love Always, Jesus Her hands were shaking as she placed the letter on the table. “Why would the Lord want to visit me? I’m nobody special. I don’t have anything to offer.” With that thought, Ruth remembered her empty kitchen cabinets. “Oh my goodness, I really don’t have anything to offer. I’ll have to run down to the store and buy something for dinner.” She reached for her purse and counted out its contents: Five dollars and forty cents. “Well, I can get some bread and cold cuts, at least.” She threw on her coat and hurried out the door. A loaf of French bread, a half-pound of sliced turkey, and a carton of milk, leaving Ruth with grand total of twelve cents to last her until Monday. Nonetheless, she felt good as she headed home, her meagre offerings tucked under her arm. “Hey lady, can you help us, lady?” Ruth had been so

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