A Sweet Story About Italian Cookies..................
Posted: Sun Jan 22, 2006 7:15 am
This is for all the Italians out there, and those who are lucky enough
to
be married to an Italian.
An elderly Italian man lay dying in his bed. While suffering the
agonies of
impending death, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favorite Italian
anisette sprinkle cookies wafting up the stairs. Gathering his
remaining
strength, he lifted himself from the bed.
Leaning against the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom,
and
with even greater effort, gripping the railing with both hands he
crawled
downstairs. With labored breath, he leaned against the doorframe,
gazing
into the kitchen. Where if not for death's agony, he would have thought
himself already in heaven. For there, spread out upon waxed paper on
the
kitchen table were literally hundreds of his favorite anisette
sprinkled
cookies.
Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of heroic love from his devoted
Italian wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he left this world a
happy
man? Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself towards the
table,
landing on his knees in a crumpled 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...................................................
"Get out of here! " she shouted , "They're for the funeral."
to
be married to an Italian.
An elderly Italian man lay dying in his bed. While suffering the
agonies of
impending death, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favorite Italian
anisette sprinkle cookies wafting up the stairs. Gathering his
remaining
strength, he lifted himself from the bed.
Leaning against the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom,
and
with even greater effort, gripping the railing with both hands he
crawled
downstairs. With labored breath, he leaned against the doorframe,
gazing
into the kitchen. Where if not for death's agony, he would have thought
himself already in heaven. For there, spread out upon waxed paper on
the
kitchen table were literally hundreds of his favorite anisette
sprinkled
cookies.
Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of heroic love from his devoted
Italian wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he left this world a
happy
man? Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself towards the
table,
landing on his knees in a crumpled 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...................................................
"Get out of here! " she shouted , "They're for the funeral."