The Tale of Three Daughters

Recently, I met a man who had three daughters, but who was too poor to afford their dowries. In the absence of any other means of wealth, the daughters would have to sell themselves to the night: to become prostitutes. I simply couldn't let it happen. I threw three bags of gold down the man's chimney, and they all landed into the stockings of the three daughters, which had been hung up to dry. The gold was more than enough to pay for the dowries, and, by giving it in secret, I spared them the shame of having to publicly beg the church for funds. The man found me and thanked me for my generosity, but I merely told him that only God was worthy of thanks, not myself; it is through His light that I do what I do, after all.