A little girl was traveling with her father and mother. They were
going from a little town in Alabama to the city of Baltimore. The
journey was long and, as the little girl was only six years old, she
wanted toys and playthings with which to pass the time.
The kind conductor let her have his punch when he was not using it.
She found that it was great fun to punch dozens of little holes in a
piece of cardboard and she would touch each hole with one of her
little fingers, but she did not count them because she had not learned
how.
By and by a pleasant lady thought she would make a rag doll for the
little traveler. She rolled two towels up in such a way that they
looked very much like a doll, and the little girl eagerly took the new
plaything in her arms. She rocked it and loved it; but something
troubled her, for she kept feeling the doll's face and holding it out
to the friends who sat near her. They did not understand what was the
matter.
Suddenly she jumped down and ran over to where her mother's cape had
been placed. This cape was trimmed with large beads. The little girl
pulled off two beads and turning to her mother pointed once more to
the doll's face. Then her mother understood that her daughter wanted
the doll to have eyes; so she sewed the beads firmly to the towel and
the little girl was happy.
[Illustration: HELEN KELLER
"Hearing" Caruso Sing]
Are you wondering why the little girl did not talk and tell what she
wanted? She could not. Just think, she was six years old and could not
speak a word! All she could do was to make a few queer sounds.
Perhaps, too, you wonder why she was so anxious for the towel doll to
have eyes. I think it was because although she herself was blind, she
liked to fancy her doll had eyes that could see the beauties of the
world. To be blind and speechless seems hard indeed, but besides
lacking these two great gifts, this little girl was deaf. Think of it!
She could not hear, she could not see, and she could not talk.
Yet this same little girl learned to talk. She learned to read, with
her fingers, books printed for the blind in raised letters. She
studied the same lessons that other children had in school, and she
worked so hard that she was able to go to college.
Should you not like to hear Helen Keller, for that is the name of the
little girl, tell about herself?
She says: "I was born on June 27, 1880, in Tuscumbia, a little town of
Northern Alabama. I am told that while I was still in long dresses I
showed many signs of an eager, self-asserting disposition. They say I
walked the day I was a year old. My mother had just taken me out of
the bath-tub and was holding me in her lap, when I was suddenly
attracted by the flickering shadows of leaves that danced in the
sunlight on the smooth floor. I slipped from my mother's lap and
almost ran toward them. The impulse gone, I fell down, and cried for
her to take me in her arms.
"These happy days did not last long, for an illness came which closed
my eyes and ears and plunged me into the unconsciousness of a new born
baby. The doctor thought I could not live. Early one morning, however,
the fever left me, but I was never to see or hear again."
From the time of her recovery until the journey of which we have been
reading, Helen Keller lived in silence and darkness. This journey was
undertaken in order to consult a famous physician who had cured many
cases of blindness. Mr. and Mrs. Keller hoped this gentleman could
help their child, and you can imagine how sad they were when he said
he could do nothing. However, he sent them to consult Dr. Alexander
Graham Bell, who had taught many deaf children to speak. Dr. Bell
played with Helen and she sat on his knee and fingered curiously his
heavy gold watch. He not only advised her parents to get a special
teacher for her, but told them of a school in Boston in which he
thought they could find some one able to unlock the doors of knowledge
for the little girl. This was in the summer, and the next March Miss
Sullivan went to Alabama to be Helen Keller's friend and teacher.
Let us read how the little girl felt when this kind, loving woman
came. "On the afternoon of that eventful day I stood on the porch,
dumb, expectant. I felt approaching footsteps. I stretched out my
hand, as I supposed, to my mother. Some one took it and I was caught
up and held close in the arms of her who had come to reveal all things
to me.
"The next morning my teacher gave me a doll. 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 at last succeeded I was flushed with pleasure and
pride. In the days that followed I learned to spell a great many words
with my fingers, among them were pin, hat, cup, sit, stand, and walk.
"But my teacher had been with me several weeks before I understood
that everything has a name."
Months and years of happy companionship now came to pass for Helen
Keller. Every winter she and her teacher went to Boston where they had
greater chances for study than in the little southern town. Here Helen
learned about snow for the first time and all her memories of her
studies in these years are joined with remembrances of the merry times
she had after school riding on a sled or toboggan and playing in the
snow.
It was when Helen was ten years old that she learned to speak. This
was a great and wonderful experience. Her teacher took her to a lady
who had offered to teach her. It was not easy for a deaf child to
learn to talk, and Miss Keller says:
"The lady passed my hands lightly over her face and let me feel the
position of her tongue and lips when she made a sound. I was eager to
imitate every motion, and in an hour had learned to make the sounds of
M, P, A, S, T, I. In all I had eleven lessons. I shall never forget
the surprise and delight I felt when I uttered my first connected
sentence, 'It is warm.' After that my work was practise, practise,
practise. Discouragement and weariness cast me down frequently; but
the next moment the thought that I should soon be at home and show my
loved ones what I could do spurred me on and I thought, 'My little
sister will understand me now.' When I had made speech my own, I could
not wait to go home. My eyes fill now as I think how my mother pressed
me close to her, taking in every word I spoke, while little Mildred
kissed my hand and danced."
Now a new world was indeed open to the bright girl who was so anxious
to learn. She finished studies similar to those taught in the eight
grades of our schools and began to prepare for college. Miss Sullivan
was still with her and, although she had for a tutor a kind, patient
man who taught her algebra, geometry, and Greek, it was Miss Sullivan
who sat beside her and talked into the girl's hands the tutor's
explanations and made it possible for her to enter Radcliffe College
in Cambridge, Massachusetts.
While at college Miss Keller, with Miss Sullivan, attended classes and
followed the lessons through the help of this noble teacher who gave
some of her best years to training her pupil. College life brought
many pleasures and interests into Helen Keller's life, and when she
finished her work there, it scarcely seemed possible that the bright,
informed young woman had ever been kept a prisoner by darkness and
silence.
Today Miss Keller often appears in public and tells to large audiences
some of her thoughts and opinions. She is a pleasant-faced, rather
serious woman and, while her voice has a hoarse sound, quite different
from the usual tones of the human voice, it is possible to understand
her very well indeed. Her teacher is still with her as a companion and
it would be hard to say who has worked the harder in the past years of
study, Miss Keller or her devoted friend.
Upon being asked what were her greatest pleasures Helen Keller named
reading, outdoor sports, playing with her pet dogs, and meeting
people. What she says about each of these pleasures is so interesting
that you will surely be glad to read it and see, perhaps, if you and
she, by any chance, think alike.
She says, "Books have meant so much more to me than to many others who
can get knowledge through their eyes and ears. My book friends talk to
me with no awkwardness, and I am never shut away from them; but
reading is not my only amusement. I also enjoy canoeing and sailing. I
like to walk on country roads. Whenever it is possible my dog
accompanies me on a sail or a walk. I have had many dog friends. They
seem to understand me, and always keep close beside me when I am
alone. I love their friendly ways, and the eloquent wag of their
tails. I have often been asked, 'Do not people bore you?' I do not
understand what that means. A hearty handshake or a friendly letter
gives me genuine pleasure."
But it has not always been easy for her to be cheerful and contented.
She has had many struggles with sad thoughts when she thinks how
she sits outside life's gate and cannot enter into the light; cannot
hear the music or enjoy the friendly speech of the world. When these
gloomy ideas come to her mind she remembers, "There is joy in
self-forgetfulness," and tries to find her happiness in the lives of
others.
* * * * *
"_One flag, one land;
One heart, one hand:
One Nation over all._"
--OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.