When we had a lady, Jill, staying at the hospice who hadn’t eaten or drunk anything for a long time. She woke up one day and, out of the blue, said she really fancied a nice cold cider. Later that day, Jill’s daughter came to visit with her husband – it was his birthday that day. As they chatted around Jill’s bed, one of the nurses sneaked out and bought three bottles of cider. Returning to the hospice, she poured them into chilled glasses and handed one to Jill and one each to Jill’s daughter and son-in-law. As Jill sipped on the cool, refreshing cider for just that moment she was able to forget her troubles and toast her son-in-law - a small thing that created a precious family memory.

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