As 80 year old Benny lay dying in his bedroom, he suddenly smells the aroma of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies wafting up the stairs. They are his favourite. So he gathers his remaining strength, lifts himself from his bed and leaning against the wall, slowly makes his way out of the bedroom. Then, with great effort, he makes his way down the stairs, gripping the rail with both hands. Finally, breathing hard, he leans against the kitchen doorframe and stares in.
“I’m already in heaven,” he thinks, as there, spread out in front of him, are hundreds of his favorite chocolate chip cookies.
“Am I really in heaven,” has asks himself, “or is it an act of devotion from mine darling Rebecca to ensure that I exit from this world a happy man?”
Then with one final effort, Benny propels himself towards the cookies, but ends up on his knees near the table. His aged hand trembles as it makes its way to the cookie nearest the table edge, his mind already beginning to think about the wondrous taste that he will soon experience.
All of a sudden, Rebecca smacks his hand with her wooden spoon.
“Please don’t touch them,” she says, “they’re for the Shiva.”

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