Sitting by the window of her convent, Sister Barbara opened a letter from home one evening. Inside the letter was a $100 bill her parents had sent. Sister Barbara smiled at the gesture. As she read the letter by the window, she noticed a shabbily dressed stranger leaning against the lamp post below. Quickly, she wrote, “Don’t despair. – Sister Barbara,” on a piece of paper, wrapped the $100 bill in it, got the man’s attention and tossed it out the window to him. The stranger picked it up, and with a puzzled expression and a tip of his hat, went off down the street.
The next day, Sister Barbara was told that a man was at her door, insisting on seeing her. She went down and found the stranger waiting. Without a word, he handed her a huge wad of $100 bills. “What’s this?” she asked. “That’s the $8,000 you have coming Sister,” he replied. “Don’t Despair paid 80-to-1.”
An elderly Italian man who lived on the outskirts of Rimini, Italy went to the local church for confession.
When the priest slid open the panel in the confessional, the man said: “Father… During World War II, a beautiful Jewish woman from our neighbourhood knocked urgently on my door and asked me to hide her from the Nazis. So I hid her in my attic.” The priest replied: “That was a wonderful thing you did, and you have no need to confess that.” “There is more to tell, Father.
She started to repay me with sexual favours. This happened several times a week, and sometimes twice on Sundays.” The priest said, “That was a long time ago and by doing what you did you placed the two of you in great danger, but two people, under those circumstances, can easily succumb to the weakness of the flesh. However, if you are truly sorry for your actions, you are indeed forgiven.” “Thank you, Father. That’s a great load off my mind. I do have one more question.” “And what is that?” asked the priest. “Should I tell her the war is over?