My grandmother lived across the street from us when I was growing up. She lived in a large house on a corner lot with lots of trees. I remember this because in the fall, the trees would shed their leaves like rain about this time of the year. And I often think about this story when October rolls around. 
    It was a beautiful fall afternoon and I had promised my grandmother I would rake some leaves for her after school. I don't suppose I did much good out there in her huge lawn with those huge maple trees. The leaves were so big they looked like sheets of rumpled wrapping paper on the end of my spring rake. 
    And on this afternoon, I truly wasn't in the mood to do much of anything. I raked half-heartedly here and there and finally I sat down on the rock wall near the garden to think. 
    "Are you letting those leaves take a rest?" she asked. 
    My grandmother had come out of the house and was wearing a red woolen jacket to ward off the chill in the air. She planted her cane in the soft soil and leaned against it like she always did. 
    "Naw," I said. "I can't get the leaves to rake up right, Grandma." 
    "That's all right. You get the big ones and I'll see what I can do tomorrow. Besides, if we miss a few leaves, I'll bet they'll be here tomorrow." 
    "I can't do anything right," I sighed. 
    "Really?" she asked. "Name a hundred things you can't do right. Go ahead. Name them for me right now. 
    "A hundred?" I asked. 
    "Having trouble with that? Make it fifty." 
    "I'll tell you the big one," I said. "My spelling. I didn't do so good on my spelling test today at school." 
    "What does 'not doing good' on your spelling test mean?" she asked. 
    "I missed half of them." 
    "Half?" My grandmother pondered this for a moment. "You're right. That's not very good. But see? You're right about something today." 
    "But Dad is going to be really mad at me." 
    "Well," she said, "did you study the words? Did you try writing them out like I suggested last time?" 
    "Yeah. I did them all five times. I just can't spell. I look at the words and when I try to write them down, they get all jumbled up. I mean, it just doesn't make sense to me." 
    "Let me see that rake of yours," she said. "Come on, give me a hand. We're going to do something I used to do when I was young." 
    I watched my grandmother rake up the leaves. Instead of raking them into a huge pile, she made long lines of leaves and then fashioned them into corners. After a few minutes I could see what she was doing. 
    "I'm making a house," she said. "A leaf house. Have you ever done this before?" 
    "No." 
    "Good. That way you can't tell if I'm doing it wrong." 
    I had to laugh at that. I didn't think my grandmother could do anything wrong. 
    "Of course the walls are only six inches high," she said, "but we just have to use our imagination. Here's the doorway where you come into our house and then let's make a hallway right here." 
    She raked two rows of leaves with enough room to walk between them. 
    "And then we're going to have our living room right here. What do you think?" 
    "And a dining room?" I asked. 
    My grandmother walked a few paces in the other direction and began rake those leaves into rows. 
    "Right," she said. "Over here is our dining room." 
    I used my hands to make a pile of leaves in the corner of one room. 
    "This can be our bed, Grandma," I said. 
    "Oh goodness. I don't know if I can get out of that bed but I'll give it a try. My cane is over by that tree. Would you get it for me, dear?" 
    I got my grandmother's cane and watched as she slowed eased herself down into the pile of damp, soft leaves. 
    After she was flat on her back, I got into the leaves my own way: by jumping. 
    "Don't hog the bed, Deary," she said. 
    "Ok, Grandma." 
    The feeling of the leaves was wonderful. For some reason, it seemed warm and comfortable in that pile of maple leaves on that beautiful fall afternoon, even though the wind was cold and biting. We looked up at the tall maple tree and watched leaves come floating down toward us. 
    I wish I could say that my grandmother had some life-changing advice for me about my spelling. I wish I could say that, but it wouldn't be true. I think she might have encouraged me to sound out the words but everybody told me that. Instead, my grandmother made a leaf house for us and was even willing to lay in a pile of leaves for what seemed like an hour. We talked about our house and where all the funiture would go. I wanted to have a fireplace to keep us warm and my grandmother wanted a porch on the front of the house to watch the seasons pass. 
    Many seasons have passed since then and I've made lots of leaf houses over the years. But I'll never forget the first one I made with my grandmother so many years ago. It was the best leaf house ever.