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)

Hope (continued)

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He rose!

And with him hope arose, and life and light.

Men said, "Not Christ but Death died yesternight."

And joy and truth and all things virtuous

Rose when He rose.


--Anonymous

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