This I Believe

I have given my St. Ed's students a "This I Believe" assignment again.  I find it is a good way for us to all get to know one another at the beginning of the semester and it gives me a writing sample.
I can't believe (pun intended) that NPR stopped the program again.  I guess they felt overwhelmed by the number of essays.  Well, I never got mine turned in so they need to re-start the show:)
Over the semesters I have used this for an assignment I always give out "my" topic to use in the examples and outlines I give.  So, this week I have been talking to the students about my deep and abiding faith in cookies.
So, without further adieu, we now have an essay from Katie Kelfer-Taylor, for "This I Believe." cue music....

"Cookies"

I believe in the power of cookies to heal the heart and soothe the savage appetite.
Whenever I am in some sort of spiritual crisis or great amount of worry, I have found that cookies can solve nearly all global issues: simply and sweetly.
This is a solution taught to my siblings and I by our father.  As a child, one of my favorite activities for late and sleepless nights (of which I had many) was to meet my dear daddy at the door to the refrigerator or cabinet for a clandestine cookie raid.  My mother did not sanction this behavior.  She believed that people who are born short and tend towards stocky, like me and dad, had no business consuming sweet things.  She did, however, bake and provide them.   So, on some level, she wanted us to be happy.
And we were.  There were no restrictions or limits on late night cookie eating.  You were there because you were sleepy or felt crappy or needed companionship.  Daddy's thinking was that if you pretended you were asleep, you could not be held responsible for the piggy nature of your actions.  Also, the calories DID NOT COUNT.
My sister and brother share this deep appreciation for all things cookie.  This fall, after our mom passed away from cancer, my brother and I got together and the first thing we did was polish off a bag of cookies.  I don't know the existential reason for it, but it helped.
My sister, who is fit and trim and fights to stay above cookie worship, has had her moments.  I remember she told me once that her husband occasionally finds her in the morning, asleep with cookie crumbs on her chest and a smile on her face.

I think that sort of says it all.  Whatever issue was too hard to bear has been banished if not abolished. The darkness of reality was successfully repelled.  The weapon?  Sweet and gooey or crisp and crunchy, The Cookie  is always ready to do battle. 
I use to see this as a failure.  But now, with my parents gone and the world a pretty scary place, I embrace it.
Sweet oblivion, even with calories, is not a bad place to be.