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, he
crawled downstairs.
With labored breath, he leaned against the door-frame,
gazing into the kitchen. Were it not for death's agony, he
would have thought himself already in heaven. There,
spread out upon waxed paper 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 was already in his mouth, seemingly bringing him
back to life.
The aged and withered hand trembled on 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."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
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