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Have You Ever Been the Cookie Thief?
Friend, while meditating and thinking about writing my post, one of my all-time favourite poems, written by Valerie Cox, kept coming to mind.
I tried to stop thinking about it but every time I went back to my question - what would serve my readers to write about this week - the following poem would move across my mind like a ticker tape.
After many attempts of ignoring my apparent answer, you don’t have to hit me over the head, ‘LOL’ I decide to listen.
Enjoy this timeless insightful message!
The Cookie Thief
A woman was waiting at an airport one night, with several long hours before her flight. She hunted for a book in the airport shops, bought a bag of cookies and found a place to drop.
She was engrossed in her book but happened to see, that the man sitting beside her, as bold as could be... grabbed a cookie or two from the bag in between, which she tried to ignore to avoid a scene.
So she munched the cookies and watched the clock, as the gutsy cookie thief diminished her stock. She was getting more irritated as the minutes ticked by, thinking, “If I wasn’t so nice, I would blacken his eye.”
With each cookie she took, he took one too, when only one was left, she wondered what he would do. With a smile on his face and a nervous laugh, he took the last cookie and broke it in half.
He offered her half, as he ate the other, she snatched it from him and thought… oooh, brother. This guy has some nerve and he’s also rude, why he didn’t even show any gratitude!
She had never known when she had been so galled and sighed with relief when her flight was called. She gathered her belongings and headed to the gate, refusing to look back at the thieving ingrate.
She boarded the plane and sank in her seat, then she sought her book, which was almost complete. As she reached in her baggage, she gasped with surprise, there was her bag of cookies, in front of her eyes.
If mine are here, she moaned in despair, the others were his, and he tried to share. Too late to apologize, she realized with grief, that she was the rude one, the ingrate, the thief.
* * *
May we remember that… things aren’t always what they seem to be.
With all my love and appreciation,