Cookie

Once upon a time I knew a Cookie. It was a very usual product, born in a very usual bakery. It was round, with irregular edges and chocolate spots on the surface. There were also few inside. It was brown and smelled really seducing. You could say, a perfect, though not outstandingly nutritient.
Cookie was happy. It was sure that one day a rich customer would come in and buy it. Buy it and eat it. So Cookie waited. Days passed by, chocolate got few white stains and the Cookie itself became dry. It also lost this wonderful, highly seducing scent of a fresh pastry.
Even more days went away, the weather started to be rainy and cold. Cookie looked at the customers coming in and buying tons of other sweet things. It became jealous. Everybody seemed to have forgotten about its existence. But, jealous or not, it could not change the way the world worked. It layed on the back of the basket and looked through the holes, powerless. The chocolate bits fell off. Cookie lost its hope. There was nobody to buy it, nobody to ever taste it, nobody to eat it.
The bell hanging over the entrance door rang again as another customer stumbled into the shop. Cookie opened its dry, rough eyes. It was a boy, wearing old clothes. No, not clothes, rags. He did not wear shoes though it was winter. Cookie heard his stomach yell with a pain-filled voice. The boy was hungry. He was alone, forgotten in this world, left alone to roam the streets and probably die one day, under the bridge. Frozen to death.
The little fellow talked to the baker, Cookie tried to overhear the conversation. The only words it heard were “hungry” and “no money”.
The man called “the baker” was a good person. He was not rich by any means but he felt sorry for the little boy with empty yet glowing eyes and thin but proud face. He put his hand into a nearby basket and dived it to the bottom. What he took out were few cookies, not really fresh but still eatable.
Cookie opened its eyes for the last time. It did not imagine that the moment it waited for so long came at last. It saw the boy, holding it in both his hands and looking at it with an innocent and grateful smile. That moment, Cookie understood. It felt ashamed. For being jealous, for being angry. It understood that the reason for which it has not bean sold or eaten till this very moment was in front of it. This little, hungry boy. Cookie felt pride flowing through its veins. All other cookies were eaten by rich people who did not realize how lucky they were in their position. Cookie has been eaten by a poor, little child. And it was the happiest Cookie of all.
So remember. There is always somebody who will need us. We just have to wait for the moment. People are only alone if they want it. They are alone if they are too proud to see the ones who need them. Do not be proud. Be grateful.