There was terrific news yesterday that Arizona Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords is regaining her ability to speak. This is a huge leap of progress given the severity of her injuries. The news warmed my heart.
It seems we aren’t getting updates of her condition as frequently as we were in the first weeks following the shooting tragedy she survived, so I listen to all reports with an interested ear.
This might sound silly, but what really warmed my heart was what she reportedly said in one of her first utterances. As breakfast was being served, she asked for toast. I don’t think we know whether “toast” was said as a single word or part of a complete sentence. No matter.
I am the last person to know what I’d have done in Rep. Giffords’ horrific situation – how does anyone muster the courage and will to fight for her life given such spotty odds and gigantic obstacles? But I do know that the first thing I’d ask for after regaining speech and an appetite would very likely be toast.
To me, toast is one of life’s greatest comfort foods. If I’m hungry and don’t know what I want, I have toast. Toast settles the stomach and softens the blows.
I like a woman who knows what she wants. Now give the woman some toast.
Word Nymph 