Sunday Funnies: Two Stories
Chocolate Chip Cookies
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 his bed. Leaning against the wall, he slowly made his way out of his bedroom, and with even greater effort forced himself down the stairs, gripping the railing with both hands. 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 on 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 wonderous taste of the cookie was already in his mouth, seemingly bringing him back to life. The aged, withered and shaking hand 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.”
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A Dying Preacher
An old preacher was dying. He sent a message for his banker and his lawyer, both church members, to come to his home.
When they arrived, they were ushered up to his bedroom. As they entered the room the preacher held out his hands and motioned for them to sit, one on each side of his bed. The preacher grasped their hands, sighed contentedly, smiled and stared at the ceiling. For a time, no one said anything.
Both the banker and the lawyer were touched and flattered that the preacher would ask them to be with him during his final moments. They were also puzzled; the preacher had never given them any indication that he particularly liked either of them. They both remembered his many long, uncomfortable sermons about greed, covetousness and avaricious behavior that made them squirm in their seats.
Finally, the banker said, “Preacher, why did you ask us to come?” The old preacher mustered up his strength, then said weakly, “Jesus died between two thieves … and that’s how I want to go.”
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A lthough things are not perfect
