My mother-in-law emailed her brother, Uncle Bud, that the sugar cookies she sent "would probably be broken- but good anyway..." This was his response:
What? Man should disparage a broken work of loving labor? I think not. The aromatic whiff that floats heavenward from the wound of a hapless, flattened pastry releases sweet scents hitherto unknown. An unbroken cookie is like an unexamined life- plain, boring, predictable. But, ah, a broken spirit! Who can deny the gentleness, kindness and peace that flows from a broken heart? Oh, the wisdom of God who shatters the self and releases the aromas of his very own Presence! Three cheers for the broken cookie. A lesson for the ages.
Uncle Bud has been in a wheel chair ever since he broke his neck in an accident in Korea, 52 years ago. His sense of humor is 100 percent intact.