BOOO! HISS! Bad Thing!! -Ben
> -----Original Message----- > From: Rick Eidson [mailto:[EMAIL PROTECTED]] > Sent: Wednesday, March 20, 2002 11:05 AM > To: CF-Community > Subject: A TOUCHING STORY OF LOVE AND MARRIAGE > > > This message is in MIME format. Since your mail reader does > not understand > this format, some or all of this message may not be legible. > > ------_=_NextPart_001_01C1D042.255019F0 > Content-Type: text/plain; > charset="iso-8859-1" > > A TOUCHING STORY OF LOVE AND MARRIAGE > > 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. > > 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 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 > wondrous > taste of the cookie was already in his mouth; seemingly bringing him > back to life. The aged and withered hand, shakeingly 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 yelled, "they're for the funeral." > > > ------_=_NextPart_001_01C1D042.255019F0 > Content-Type: text/html; > charset="iso-8859-1" > > <!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 3.2//EN"> > <HTML> > <HEAD> > <META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; > charset=iso-8859-1"> > <META NAME="Generator" CONTENT="MS Exchange Server version > 5.5.2653.12"> > <TITLE>A TOUCHING STORY OF LOVE AND MARRIAGE</TITLE> > </HEAD> > <BODY> > > <P><FONT SIZE=2 FACE="Courier New">A TOUCHING STORY OF LOVE > AND MARRIAGE</FONT> > </P> > > <P><FONT SIZE=2 FACE="Courier New"> An elderly man lay > dying in his bed. In death's agony, he suddenly</FONT> > <BR><FONT SIZE=2 FACE="Courier New"> smelled the aroma > of his favorite chocolate chip cookies wafting up the</FONT> > <BR><FONT SIZE=2 FACE="Courier New"> stairs.</FONT> > <BR><FONT SIZE=2 FACE="Courier New"> He gathered his > remaining strength, and lifted himself from the bed.</FONT> > <BR><FONT SIZE=2 FACE="Courier New"> Leaning > against the wall, he slowly made his way out of the > bedroom, and</FONT> > <BR><FONT SIZE=2 FACE="Courier New"> with</FONT> > <BR><FONT SIZE=2 FACE="Courier New"> even greater effort > forced himself down the stairs, gripping the railing</FONT> > <BR><FONT SIZE=2 FACE="Courier New"> with both hands.</FONT> > </P> > > <P><FONT SIZE=2 FACE="Courier New"> With labored > breath, he leaned against the door frame, gazing into the</FONT> > <BR><FONT SIZE=2 FACE="Courier New"> kitchen.</FONT> > <BR><FONT SIZE=2 FACE="Courier New"> Were it not for > death's agony, he would have thought himself already in</FONT> > <BR><FONT SIZE=2 FACE="Courier New"> heaven.</FONT> > </P> > > <P><FONT SIZE=2 FACE="Courier New"> There, spread out > upon newspapers on the kitchen table were literally</FONT> > <BR><FONT SIZE=2 FACE="Courier New"> hundreds of > his favorite chocolate chip cookies. Was it heaven? Or was</FONT> > <BR><FONT SIZE=2 FACE="Courier New"> it one final act of > heroic love from his devoted wife, seeing to it that</FONT> > <BR><FONT SIZE=2 FACE="Courier New">he left this world a > happy man?</FONT> > </P> > > <P><FONT SIZE=2 FACE="Courier New"> Mustering one great > final effort, he threw himself toward the table,</FONT> > <BR><FONT SIZE=2 FACE="Courier New"> landing on his > knees in a rumpled posture. His parched lips parted; the</FONT> > <BR><FONT SIZE=2 FACE="Courier New"> wondrous</FONT> > <BR><FONT SIZE=2 FACE="Courier New"> taste of the cookie > was already in his mouth; seemingly bringing him</FONT> > <BR><FONT SIZE=2 FACE="Courier New"> back to life. > The aged and withered hand, shakeingly made its way to a</FONT> > <BR><FONT SIZE=2 FACE="Courier New"> cookie at</FONT> > <BR><FONT SIZE=2 FACE="Courier New"> the edge of the > table, when it was suddenly smacked with a spatula by his</FONT> > <BR><FONT SIZE=2 FACE="Courier New"> wife.</FONT> > </P> > > <P><FONT SIZE=2 FACE="Courier New"> "Stay out of > those," she yelled, "they're for the funeral."</FONT> > </P> > > </BODY> > </HTML> > ------_=_NextPart_001_01C1D042.255019F0-- > > Archives: http://www.mail-archive.com/[email protected]/ > Unsubscribe: http://www.houseoffusion.com/index.cfm?sidebar=lists > ______________________________________________________________________ Your ad could be here. 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