"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. 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, 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 Bridgman 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_.
Pages:
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177