Some time ago, Ireland was suffering from a famine. Hearing of this, a poor Irish woman in Boston went to a priest, and asked him to send some little help to Ireland.

“How much can you spare?” asked the priest.

“I have a hundred dollars saved,” she said, “and I can spare that sum.”

But the good priest would not hear of it. He gently tried to reason with her: that gift was too much for someone of her poverty to give; she would not have enough money left for herself. But all he said could not make her change her mind.

“It will do me good to know that I have been able to help a little,” she said, “and I shall be able to rest happier when I think of the poor families I have saved from hunger and death.”

The priest then took the money she offered him, but as he did so his eyes filled with tears.

“Now, what is your name?” he asked, “that I may have it published.”

“My name?” she exclaimed in surprise, “Don’t mind that, Father. Just send them the help. God knows my name, and that is quite enough for me.”

This good woman was content to know that she had pleased God, and helped souls in need. During her life, she did not look for a reward, or even for grateful praise, for she knew that such things only matter in Eternity.