The story behind it was that the cookie was given as a gift to a little girl by her grandmother. The grandma told her not to eat it until she was REALLY hungry. The girl had carried it all the way across the plains and only took one little nibble that was visible. I think the story was fascinating on a lot of levels. I always stood in awe of this brave girl who, as we all know, walked and walked and walked and walked and still managed to hang on to that cookie.
It always resonated with me the tangible symbol of hope that the cookie provided. No matter how bad things got she knew she still had the cookie to rely on. Even as an adult I think that kid had guts. If it had been me the cookie would have been gone before I was even out of the door.
Today when I was getting ready to head out for a little run I thought I would give Daisy a piece of pumpkin bread for
The thought of looking forward to eating the bread got her happily through the whole run. Luckily for all of us we were just going a few miles instead of crossing the country or she might have ended up with a petrified piece of history instead of a snack.