A SWEET STORY ABOUT ITALIAN COOKIES... > > This is for all the Italians out there, and those who are lucky enough to be > married to an Italian, and even to all the friends of Italians. > > 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. Wit h labored > breath, he leaned against the door frame, 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. His 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. > &g t; "Get outta here!" she shouted, "They're for the funeral!"