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                       Reading The Last Leaf by O.Henry

Just a simple story, with an unexpected ending, leaves me a sequence of shock, thinking,appreciation and heart moving.

    Once two young women artists lived in a dilapidated apartment in a dreary garden, one of whom unfortunately caught pneumonia and fell badly ill, approaching death as time went by second by second. Poor Johnsy, counted back her mere days, completely losing faith in surviving. An old pale ivy vine climbed hopelessly half way up the block wall, seen by Johnsy. As sorrowful as her, its hundred-odd leaves kept on dropping, due to chilly wind and cruel rain, till that day, when only five last green leaves remained. And Johnsy said to herself, the time when the last leaf dropped, she would say forever goodbye to Sue. Sue was rather worried about her. If a person lost his eagerness for life, then no one including the doctor could help.

    Sue had no idea but to turn to the old, never-succeeded artist downstairs-Old Behrman. He might be very pathetic as a failer in artist occupation, nervertheless, he still maintained a strong enough desire to live along, and what's more respectful, he devoted himself to providing the two youth shelter and sympathy.

    That night, west wind blowed through the garden at full blast, trying to devour the last leaf and Johnsy's last breath. However, marvelously, the last leaf was still there, as green as before. On this scene, Johnsy regained her faith, conviction and hope for life, from which she then got more things besides health. But who gave her a second life?Sue, yes, of course, and another person she should always remember. Two days later, people found Old Behrman died of pneumonia. It was fatal to such an old man like him. How and when was he hit by the devil? It was that horrible and crucial night. This decent man, holding an umbrella, standing in the freezing cold rain, against the wind, painted the last leaf green and protected it from destroying all night, for he knew the significance it denoted. There he went and hell called him. A story mixed happiness and sadness.

    After reading it, I am strongly moved by O.Henry's story and initiative to give his readers great surprise in the end. And I also think of something else. I wonder what gives people power and strength to keep on in bad conditions. Well,  sometimes, this stuff won't be significent or else, just an usual leaf, an ordinary thing one peers at that deciding moment, namely, we're so deeply affected by surroundings. I can't help showing my respect to Old Behrman, right, he never succeeded with a masterpiece in his career, but it won't eliminate the nobleness of his character, and saving others, is of no doubt, a more wonderful masterpiece in his life. One may be puzzled what drives a person to devote himself to others. In terms of Behrman, I consider it a fairly wide chest and mind, a hopeful dream for youngsters, maybe also his thought to continue his artist life by their young hands. He has already lost opportunity in himself, while he sees a bright future in them. No matter what reason that urges him, he is decidedly a dear man. I also think, in our lives, we're somehow lucky to be accompanied and helped by other Behrman, yet we might forget them, not on purpose. It's not so easy for us to meet such kind-hearted people, and it's also appreciation and thanks that we should always bear in mind, even when we're cornered and lost, for appreciation can always give us hope.