The Last Leaf

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  “The day slowly passed. As it grew dark, they could still see the leaf hanging from its branch against the wall. And then, as the night  came, the north wind began again to blow. The rain still beat against the windows. When it was light enough the next morning, Johnsy again commanded that she be allowed to see. The leaf was still there.” “The Last Leaf” A Short Story by O Henry (1905)

Good Friday

Gall is the taste of life when we

Who live must bear our Calvary.

On this day our Master died--

Christ, our Lord, the Crucified.

Upon the cross in agony

He shed his blood for love of me.

In every street, on every hill,

The Heart that stopped is beating still.



--Vincent Holm

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