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