The Story Of My Life Learn English through story

the story of my life by helen keller

the most important day i remember in all

my life is the one on which my teacher

anne mansfield sullivan came to me i’m

filled with wonder when i consider the

immeasurable contrasts between the two

lives which it connects

it was the third of march 1887

three months before i was seven years

old

on the afternoon of that eventful day i

stood on the porch

dumb expectant i guessed vaguely from my

mother’s signs and from the hurrying to

and fro in the house

that something unusual was about to

happen

so i went to the door and waited on the

steps

the afternoon sun penetrated the massive

honeysuckle that covered the porch

and fell on my upturned face my fingers

lingered almost

unconsciously on the familiar leaves and

blossoms which had just come

forth to greet the sweet southern spring

i did not know what the future held of

marvel

or surprise for me anger and bitterness

had preyed upon me continually for weeks

and a deep langer had succeeded this

passionate struggle

have you ever been at sea in a dense fog

when it seemed as if a tangible white

darkness

shut you in and the great ship tense and

anxious

groped her way toward the shore with

plummet and sounding line

and you waited with beating heart for

something to happen

i was like that ship before my education

began

only i was without compass or sounding

line and had no way of knowing how near

the harbor was

light give me light was the wordless cry

of my soul

and the light of love shone on me in

that very

hour i felt approaching footsteps

i stretched out my hand as i supposed to

my mother

someone took it and i was caught up and

held close

in the arms of her who had come to

reveal all things to me

and more than all things else to love me

the morning after my teacher came she

led me into her room and gave me a doll

the little blind children at the perkins

institution had sent it and laura

bridgeman had dressed it

but i did not know this until afterward

when i had played with it a little while

miss sullivan

slowly spelled into my hand the word

d-o-l-l

i was at once interested in this finger

play and tried to imitate it

when i finally succeeded in making the

letters correctly

i was flushed with childish pleasure and

pride

running downstairs to my mother i held

up my hand and made the letters for doll

i did not know that i was spelling a

word

or even that words existed i was simply

making my fingers go in monkey-like

imitation

in the days that followed i learned to

spell in this

uncomprehending way a great many words

among them

pin hat cup and a few verbs like

sit stand and walk

but my teacher had been with me several

weeks before i

understood that everything has a name

one day while i was playing with my new

doll miss sullivan put my big ragdoll

into my lap also spelled d-o-l-l

and tried to make me understand that

d-o-l-l

applied to both earlier in the day

we had had a tussle over the words m-u-g

and w-a-t-e

ms sullivan had tried to impress it upon

me that mug is mug

and that w-a-t-e-r is water but i

persisted in confounding the two

in despair she had dropped the subject

for the time only to renew it at the

first opportunity

i became impatient at her repeated

attempts and seizing the new doll

i dashed it upon the floor i was keenly

delighted when i felt the fragments of

the broken doll at my feet

neither sorrow nor regret followed my

passionate outburst

i had not loved the doll in this still

dark world in which i lived there was no

strong

sentiment or tenderness i felt my

teacher sweep the fragments to one side

of the hearth and i had a sense of

satisfaction that the cause of my

discomfort was removed

she brought me my hat and i knew i was

going out

into the warm sunshine this thought

if a wordless sensation may be called a

thought made me hop

and skip with pleasure we walked down

the path to the well house

attracted by the fragrance of the

honeysuckle with which it was covered

someone was drawing water and my teacher

placed my hand

under the spout as the cool stream

gushed over one hand she spelled into

the other the word

water first slowly then rapidly

i stood still my whole attention fixed

upon the motions of her fingers

suddenly i felt a misty consciousness

as of something forgotten a thrill of

returning thought

and somehow the mystery of language was

revealed to me

i knew then that w-a-t-e-r meant the

wonderful cool

something that was flowing over my hand

that living word awakened my soul

gave it light hope joy

set it free there were barriers still

it is true but barriers that could in

time

be swept away i left the whale house

eager to learn

everything had a name and each name gave

birth to a new thought

as we returned to the house every object

which i touched

seemed to quiver with life that’s

because i saw everything

with the strange new sight that had come

to me

on entering the door i remembered the

doll i had broken

i felt my way to the hearth and picked

up the pieces

i tried vainly to put them together

then my eyes filled with tears for i

realized what i had done

and for the first time i felt repentance

and sorrow i learned a great many new

words that day

i do not remember what they all were but

i do know that

mother father sister teacher

were among them words that were to make

the world blossom for me

like aaron’s rod with flowers

it would have been difficult to find a

happier child than i was

as i lay in my crib at the close of that

eventful day

and lived over the joys it had brought

me and for the first time

longed for a new day to come

i recall many incidents of the summer of

1887 that followed my soul

sudden awakening i did nothing but

explore with my hands

and learn the name of every object that

i touched

and the more i handled things and

learned their names and uses

the more joyous and confident grew my

sense of kinship with the rest of the

world

when the time of daisies and buttercups

came myself and took me by the hand

across the fields where men were

preparing the earth for the seed

to the banks of the tennessee river and

there

sitting on the warm grass i had my first

lessons in the beneficence of nature

i learned how the sun and the rain make

to grow out of the ground

every tree that is pleasant to the site

and good for food

how birds build their nests and live and

thrive from land to land

how the squirrel the deer the lion and

every other creature finds food

and shelter as my knowledge of things

grew

i felt more and more the delight of the

world i was in

long before i learned to do a sum in

arithmetic or describe the shape of the

earth

ms sullivan had taught me to find beauty

in the fragrant woods in every blade of

grass

and in the curves and dimples of my baby

sister’s hand

she linked my earliest thoughts with

nature and made me feel that

birds and flowers and i were happy peers

but about this time i had an experience

which taught me that nature is not

always kind

one day my teacher and i were returning

from a long ramble the morning had been

fine but it was growing

warm and sultry when at last we turned

our faces homeward

two or three times we stopped to rest

under a tree by the wayside

our last halt was under a wild cherry

tree a short distance from the house

the shade was grateful and the tree was

so easy to climb that with my teacher’s

assistance

i was able to scramble to a seat in the

branches

it was so cool up in the tree that miss

sullivan proposed that we have our

luncheon there

i promise to keep still while she went

to the house to fetch it

suddenly a change passed over the tree

all the sun’s warmth left the air

i knew the sky was black because all the

heat

which meant light to me had died out of

the atmosphere

a strange odor came up from the earth

i knew it it was the odor that always

proceeds

a thunderstorm and a nameless fear

clutched at my heart i felt

absolutely alone cut off from my friends

and the firm earth the immense

the unknown enfolded me

i remained still and expectant

a chilling terror crept over me

i longed for my teacher’s return but

above all things

i wanted to get down from that tree

there was a moment of sinister silence

then a multitudinous stirring of the

leaves

a shiver ran through the tree and the

wind sent forth a blast that would have

knocked me off

had i not clung to the branch with might

in maine

the trees swayed and strained the small

twigs snapped and fell about me in

showers

a wild impulse to jump seized me but

terror held me fast

i crouched down in the fork of the tree

the branches lashed about me

i felt the intermittent jarring that

came now and then as if something heavy

had fallen

and the shock had traveled up till it

reached the limb i sat on

it worked my suspense up to the highest

point and just as i was thinking the

tree and i should fall together

my teacher seized my hand and helped me

down

i clung to her trembling with joy to

feel the earth under my feet once more

i had learned a new lesson that nature

wages open war against her children

and under softest touch hides

treacherous claws