The first Christmas after Miss Sullivan came to Tuscumbia was a great
event. Every one in the family prepared surprises for me; but what
pleased me most, Miss Sullivan and I prepared surprises for everybody
else. The mystery that surrounded the gifts was my greatest delight and
amusement. My friends did all they could to excite my curiosity by hints
and half-spelled sentences which they pretended to break off in the nick
of time. Miss Sullivan and I kept up a game of guessing which taught
me more about the use of language than any set lessons could have done.
Every evening, seated round a glowing wood fire, we played our guessing
game, which grew more and more exciting as Christmas approached.
On Christmas Eve the Tuscumbia schoolchildren had their tree, to which
they invited me. In the centre of the schoolroom stood a beautiful
tree ablaze and shimmering in the soft light, its branches loaded with
strange, wonderful fruit. It was a moment of supreme happiness. I danced
and capered round the tree in an ecstasy. When I learned that there
was a gift for each child, I was delighted, and the kind people who had
prepared the tree permitted me to hand the presents to the children. In
the pleasure of doing this, I did not stop to look at my own gifts; but
when I was ready for them, my impatience for the real Christmas to begin
almost got beyond control. I knew the gifts I already had were not those
of which friends had thrown out such tantalizing hints, and my teacher
said the presents I was to have would be even nicer than these. I was
persuaded, however, to content myself with the gifts from the tree and
leave the others until morning.
That night, after I had hung my stocking, I lay awake a long time,
pretending to be asleep and keeping alert to see what Santa Claus would
do when he came. At last I fell asleep with a new doll and a white bear
in my arms. Next morning it was I who waked the whole family with my
first "Merry Christmas!" I found surprises, not in the stocking
only, but on the table, on all the chairs, at the door, on the very
window-sill; indeed, I could hardly walk without stumbling on a bit of
Christmas wrapped up in tissue paper. But when my teacher presented me
with a canary, my cup of happiness overflowed.
Little Tim was so tame that he would hop on my finger and eat candied
cherries out of my hand. Miss Sullivan taught me to take all the care of
my new pet. Every morning after breakfast I prepared his bath, made his
cage clean and sweet, filled his cups with fresh seed and water from the
well-house, and hung a spray of chickweed in his swing.
One morning I left the cage on the window-seat while I went to fetch
water for his bath. When I returned I felt a big cat brush past me as I
opened the door. At first I did not realize what had happened; but when
I put my hand in the cage and Tim's pretty wings did not meet my touch
or his small pointed claws take hold of my finger, I knew that I should
never see my sweet little singer again.