An elderly Italian man lay dying in his bed. While suffering the agonies of
impending death, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favorite ravioli
wafting up the stairs. He gathered his remaining strength, and lifted
himself from the bed. Gripping the railing with both hands, he crawled
downstairs. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he leaned against the
door frame, 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 hundreds of his favorite ravioli.
Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of love from his wife of sixty years,
seeing to it that he left this world a happy man?
With a trembling hand he reached up to the edge of the table, when suddenly
he was smacked with a wooden spoon by his wife.
'Hands off!' she said.
'Those are for the funeral.'.