Here is a beautiful story from St. Anthony Mary Claret:

One afternoon, as I was walking along a street in one of the larger cities of Spain, a little boy came up to me, kissed my hand, and asked me for a holy card, which I gave him. Very early the following day I went, as was my custom, to celebrate Mass in the church, after which I would ordinarily have taken my place in the confessional because there was always a large crowd waiting.

After Mass, I knelt in the sanctuary to make my thanksgiving. I
hadn't been there long, when a tall, heavy-set man with a large mustache and full beard approached me. He was holding his cape together with his hands, so that the only features I could make out were his nose and forehead.

His eyes were closed and the rest of his face was covered by his
eyebrows, mustache, and beard, as well as by the high fur collar of
his cape. In a trembling, hoarse voice, he asked me whether I would
be so good as to hear his confession. I told him that I would, and
asked him to go and wait for me in the sacristy, where I would join
him after I finished my thanksgiving.

Although there were other men and women waiting in line for
confession, something told me that I should hear him apart from the
rest because, from his appearance, I felt that it was the right thing
to do; and as things turned out, it was.

I went to the sacristy where there was no one but the two of us and,
even so, led him over to the farthest corner of the room. I sat down
and he knelt before me and began to cry so disconsolately that I
didn't know what to say to quiet him. I asked him a number of
questions to try to find out the cause of his suffering, and finally,
amid tears, sighs, and sobs he told me: "Father, yesterday you were
walking along the street where I live, and as you were passing by the
door of the house where I am staying, a little boy ran out and kissed
your hand. He asked you for a holy card, and you gave it to him.

The boy walked away with it, very content, and after he held it for
awhile, he put it down on a table and ran off to play with the other
boys. I was at home alone, watching all this, and my curiosity got
the better of me. To pass the time, I picked up the card and read it.
Father, I just cannot tell you what I felt. It was like an arrow shot
through me. It was then and there I made up my mind to go to
confession.

"I thought to myself, Since God chose to use that good man to give
you a true knowledge of yourself, you should make your confession to
him." I have spent the whole night crying and examining my conscience
and now here I am, waiting to confess my sins. Father, I am a big
sinner. I am 50 years old and have not been to confession since I was
a child. I have been the ringleader of a very bad gang. Father, is
there any hope of pardon for people like me?

"Yes Sir!" I said. "Yes indeed! Have courage and trust in God's
goodness and mercy. The good God has called you because He wants to
save you, and you have done well not to harden your heart. You have
carried out your resolution to make a good confession." He made his
confession, I absolved him, and he was so happy he could not speak.

Well then, if all the pamphlets and cards resulted in just this one
conversion, I would have thought the time well spent and I would have
been satisfied for all the effort and money put into printing them.
However, this was by no means the only case of someone's being
converted by reading the pamphlets I have published.

In Villafranca del Panades, four condemned convicts had refused to go
to confession after three days, of being brought to chapel; but after
reading a pamphlet I had given each of them, they thought it over,
went to confession, received Viaticum, and died an edifying death.
Many, very many, have been converted by reading a pamphlet.

My God, how good Thou art! Thou dost find a way in all circumstances to
shower Thy mercies on poor sinners. Mayest Thou be blessed forever.
Amen.