Dad once told me the story about a girl who was sick and would check every day outside her window to see if the leaves were still there. She said she would die when the last leaf fell. A painter came and painted a leaf, so that she would always see a leaf. 
     Today, on his birthday, I saw a giant brown oak leaf on the floor inside the door where my mom was gets her physical therapy. It was an unusual place for such a leaf considering that all the leaves had already fallen, and it wasn’t near a tree. It was 12 degrees outside. Upon seeing this leaf, I remembered the story of the last leaf.