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

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He died!

And with Him perished all that men hold dear;

Hope lay beside Him in the sepulcher,

Love grew corse [sic] cold, and all things beautiful beside

Died when He died . . . .


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