This short story is from <Feel Better Compilation of Short Stories for Seniors> by Bradley Windrow. It is perfect for seniors, even for dementia patients. Be sure to read until the end, as there’s a special gift waiting for you! hope you enjoy it!
The smallest act of kindness is worth more than the grandest intention. –Oscar Wilde
The retirement home was buzzing with excitement over the upcoming holiday cookie party. Mrs. Patterson, the head cook, had been baking her famous homemade cookies for days. But then, mysteriously, the cookies started disappearing from the kitchen.
“Who could be taking them?” Mrs. Patterson wondered aloud, looking at the empty tray where fresh cookies had been just moments before. Mr. Thompson, a sharp-witted resident with a knack for solving puzzles, decided it was time to get to the bottom of the mystery. He gathered his fellow sleuths: Edith, George, and Martha.
“Alright, team,” Mr. Thompson said, handing out magnifying glasses and notepads. “We’re going to crack this case wide open. Let’s find out who’s been stealing the cookies!”
Armed with their detective gear, the senior sleuths began their investigation. They started by interviewing the staff and other residents.
“I haven’t seen anyone suspicious,” said Nurse Betty, shrugging, “but I did notice some crumbs in the hallway.”
“Crumbs, you say?” Mr. Thompson mused, jotting down notes. “Interesting.” Next, they spoke to Mr. Jenkins, who always had a sweet tooth.
“Don’t look at me,” Mr. Jenkins said, holding up his hands. “I’ve been trying to cut down on sweets.”
The sleuths decided to follow the crumbs trail. They crouched low, magnifying glasses in hand, and traced the path through the halls. Along the way, they encountered several humorous distractions. They found a mischievous squirrel near the entrance, nibbling on a leftover cookie. “I think we’ve found one of our suspects,” George said, laughing.
But the squirrel quickly scampered off, leaving the sleuths to continue their investigation. They followed the crumbs to the common room, where they found Whiskers, the retirement home’s resident cat, lounging on a sunny windowsill.
“Whiskers couldn’t be the culprit, could he?” Edith asked, scratching her head. The cat blinked innocently at them, looking as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.
The crumbs trail led them to the kitchen, where they set up a stakeout. The seniors hid behind the counter, waiting to catch the thief red-handed. After a few minutes of suspenseful silence, they heard a soft rustling sound. They peeked over the counter to see Whiskers skillfully opening a cookie jar with his paw and fishing out a cookie.
“Aha!” Mr. Thompson exclaimed, jumping up. “Caught in the act!” Whiskers looked up, a cookie crumb dangling from his whiskers. The seniors burst into laughter, realizing their beloved cat was the cookie culprit.
“Whiskers, you little rascal,” Martha said, petting the cat. “You’ve given us quite a scare.” They even made a special batch of cat-friendly treats for Whiskers, who contentedly purred as he enjoyed his share.
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