A Classically "Sweet" Greek Cookie Story

I thought it fitting for the first "Fanouropita" story of the new year to be about Greek cookies and Greek mothers. I cannot take credit for this piece as I came across it by chance in an old chain e-mail, so unfortunately I don't know who the writer is, but I had to share it. 


It captures the Greek essence perfectly...read on...

An elderly Greek man lay dying in his bed. While suffering the agonies of  impending  death, he suddenly  smelled  the  aroma of his favorite Greek cookies, koulourakia,  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 laboured 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 Greek cookies...koulourakia.

Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of heroic love from his devoted Greek 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 koulouraki 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!"