An
elderly man lay dying in his bed. In death's agony, he suddenly smelled
the aroma of his favorite chocolate chip cookies wafting up the stairs.
He gathered his remaining strength, and lifted himself from the bed.
Leaning against the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and
with even greater effort forced himself down the stairs, gripping the
railing with both hands.
With labored breath, he leaned
against the doorframe, gazing into the kitchen. Were it not for death's
agony, he would have thought himself already in heaven. Spread out upon
newspapers on the kitchen table were literally hundreds of his favorite
chocolate chip cookies.
Was it heaven? Or was it one final
act of heroic love from his devoted wife, seeing to it that he left this
world a happy man? Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself
toward the table, landing on his knees in a rumpled posture. His parched
lips parted; the wondrous taste of the cookie wa
s
already in his mouth; seemingly bringing him back to life. The aged and
withered hand, shakingly, made its way to a cookie at the edge of the
table, when it was suddenly smacked with a spatula by his wife.
"Stay out of those," she said. "They're for the funeral.":)
