The Story of My Life: With her letters (1887-1901) and a supplementary account of her education, including passages from the reports and letters of her teacher, Anne Mansfield Sullivan, by John Albert MacyKeller, Helen
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The Story of My Life: With her letters (1887-1901) and a supplementary account of her education, including passages from the reports and letters of her teacher, Anne Mansfield Sullivan, by John Albert Macy
Keller, Helen
Deafblind women -- United States -- Biography; Keller, Helen, 1880-1968
He stood still a moment to look about him, and think what he should do
first. The fresh morning air blew softly in his face, as if to welcome
him and be his merry playmate; and the bright eye of Mr. Sun looked at
him with a warm and glowing smile; but Birdie soon walked on to find
something to play with. As he came in sight of the rose-bushes that grew
near the side of the house, he suddenly clapped his hands, and with a
little shout of joy stopped to look at them; they were all covered with
lovely rosebuds. Some were red, some white, and others pale pink, and
they were just peeping out of the green leaves, as rosy-faced children
peep out from their warm beds in wintertime before they are quite
willing to get up. A few days before, Birdie's papa had told him that
the green balls on the rose-bushes had beautiful flowers shut up within
them, but the little boy found it hard to believe, for he was so young
that he did not remember how pretty the roses had been the summer
before. Now he found out that his father's words were true, for a few
days of warm weather had turned the green balls into rosebuds, and they
were SO beautiful that it was enough to make Birdie stand still before
them, his blue eyes dancing with delight and his little hands clasped
tightly together.
After awhile he went nearer, and looking closely at the buds, found that
they were folded up, leaf over leaf, as eyelids are folded over sleeping
eyes, so that Birdie thought they must be asleep. "Lazy roses, wake up,"
said he, giving the branches a gentle shake; but only the dew fell off
in bright drops, and the flowers were still shut up. At last Birdie
remembered how he had awakened his mother with kisses, and thought he
would try the same plan with the roses; so he drew up his red lips until
THEY looked like a rosebud, too, and bending down a branch with a lovely
pink bud upon it, he kissed it softly two or three times.
Here the similarity in the language of the story to that in the letter
ceases.
HELEN'S LETTER TO MR. ANAGNOS
(Written February 2 and 3, 1890.)
[This letter was enclosed in another written in French, dated Le 1
fevrier 1890.]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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