A bee flew into the bus and began buzzing menacingly against the window next to me and the man seated ahead of me.
For several unnerving minutes I debated what I should do until my fellow passenger decided to dispatch the insect with the paperback book he’d been reading.
After several unsuccessful swats, one blow hit its mark.
“I’m glad you got it,” I told the man.
He smiled sheepishly as he showed me the title of the book he had used— “Random Acts of Kindness.”
“Dad, I think the Smiths next door are angry at us.”
“Why is that?”
“They’re probably mad because our dog can retrieve the newspaper, and theirs can’t.”
“How could you possibly know that? We don’t even subscribe to the paper.”
“Yeah, that’s probably got something to do with it, too.
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 doorframe, gazing into the kitchen. Were it not for death’s agony, he would have thought himself already in heaven: there, spread out upon the kitchen table was 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 shakily 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.”