If you were to ask me what my favorite dessert is, I’d immediately say, “a chocolate chip cookie.” Who doesn’t love a freshly baked cookie with melted chocolate chips? To most people, it’s just a delicious treat—but to me, it’s so much more.
Growing up, my parents always made chocolate chip cookies. Even today, we still bake a homemade batch or grab store-bought dough if we’re short on time. The smell alone would bring me into the kitchen in an instant. My grandma also baked amazing desserts—everything from banana bread to, you guessed it, chocolate chip cookies. That cookie became a symbol of home, comfort, and love.
The summer before eighth grade, I learned that my papa was diagnosed with kidney cancer. I already knew he was sick, and deep down, I feared it was cancer. That fear was confirmed at the end of July. My papa was one of the smartest people I knew. He gave the best life advice and shared the most random facts, many of which somehow connected to everyday life. I remember him explaining how a roller coaster worked and then seamlessly comparing it to the ups and downs of life.
I didn’t see him for two weeks after I found out. I was scared. He didn’t want his grandchildren to know, but I was the first to figure it out. Even though it was an accident, I felt guilty. When I finally gathered the courage to visit, he was thin and weak, but still in good spirits. And he asked for one thing: a chocolate chip cookie.
So my grandma and I baked a batch together. Starting that day, every Monday after school, I would go to my grandparents’ house and bake cookies while my papa sat in his white loveseat, waiting patiently for one (or two). It became a cherished ritual.
On October 10th, 2016, like every Monday, I went over after school and baked cookies. My papa sat in his usual spot. But when my grandma offered him a cookie, he declined. He never said no to a fresh chocolate chip cookie. I felt a pang of sadness, not because I had worked hard on them, but because I knew what it meant: he was getting worse. One week later, on October 17th, my mom woke me up and told me that my papa had passed away early that morning. I still went to my grandparents’ house that day, but there were no cookies.
Fast forward to April 2018. I was a freshman in high school. Life after my papa passed wasn’t easy. My family faced personal challenges that I won’t go into out of respect for their privacy. School became my escape. No one knew what was going on at home, and that allowed me to focus on something else.
Two days before my birthday, I brought store-bought chocolate chip cookies to school for my teachers. I had done this before, but it was my first time doing so in high school. Everyone enjoyed them, but one teacher stood out—my Spanish teacher. He said, “Chocolate chip cookies are my favorite.”
If you knew me in high school, you knew how much I adored my Spanish teacher. He reminded me of my papa. He offered life advice, looked out for me, and always had my back. Seeing how happy a cookie made him created an unexpected and touching connection between him and my late papa. For the next three years, whenever I sensed he was having a rough day, I’d bring him a chocolate chip cookie—or two, or five. Every Christmas or end-of-year gift I gave him always included a bag of chocolate chip cookies.
Chocolate chip cookies have always been my favorite dessert. But now, they represent more than just a sweet treat. They’re a small way I’ve been able to show love and appreciation to two of the most important people in my life. Sometimes a simple dessert can make a cloudy day feel a little sunnier.
If you’re ever wondering how to say thank you or brighten someone’s day, consider a treat. Or better yet, remember to
Always Be Kind!!
🐼
