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 pizzelle 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 door frame, gazing into the kitchen. Were 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 pizzelle 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 youth, 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 outta here!" she shouted, "They're for the funeral!"
sam
#1451-------red/white
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 pizzelle 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 door frame, gazing into the kitchen. Were 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 pizzelle 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 youth, 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 outta here!" she shouted, "They're for the funeral!"
sam
#1451-------red/white