Sadie's strudel
Moishe has been lying ill for weeks. A few days ago he slipped
into a coma, and everyone feared the worst. The family is called.
The son from Miami.The daughter from Bridgewater. The aunts.
The uncles. All sit waiting for the end.
Suddenly a miracle! Moishe opens his eyes. Weakly he motions
for his son to approach so he can hear talk to him. Moishe is weak
from the illness and so his voice is very faint as he says, "I've been ill?"
"Yes, papa," replies the son with tears choking his voice, "very ill."
The papa nods and speaks again. "I had a dream. I was nearing
death when I suddenly smelled the aroma of your mother's apple
strudel. I love that strudel. As wonderful a cook as my Sadie is,
that strudel is her masterpiece." He lays back against the pillow
weak from the exertion of speaking.
"What a wonderful dream, papa. But the smell is real. Mama
just took the strudel out of the oven to cool." "A miracle!" cries
Moishe as he tries to rise, and weakly falls against the pillows.
He turns to his son and says, "I'm still too weak to get up. Go
to the kitchen and get for me a piece of Sadie's strudel."
The son obediently rises and leaves the room to fulfill his
father's request, only to return a few moments later empty
handed. He sits again by his father's side.
Moishe looks at him and says, "Nu? Where is the strudel?"
The son replies, "I'm sorry, papa. Mama says it's for AFTER
the funeral!"
