"When your mother lived upon the earth did she ever share her plenty with any of my poor unfortunate children?" was the question.
St. Peter thought hard. His mother had been a worthy, virtuous woman in many respects, but he could recall nothing which she had ever given to the poor and the unfortunate.
At last he remembered a day when she had gone into the garden to get vegetables for the soup.
A poor beggar woman had stood outside the garden gate, crying: "Alms! Alms, for the love of God!"
"Alms! Alms!"
"Get away from my garden," said St. Peter's mother. "I have no alms to give you. If I give away the vegetables from my garden, I'd soon have nothing left to feed my own family. I'd be begging myself."
The poor beggar woman started to turn away with tears in her eyes. An onion stalk fell from the hand of St. Peter's mother. It was bruised by its fall and covered with mud, but the beggar seized it eagerly.
"Keep it. I wouldn't use it anyway," snapped St. Peter's mother.