海伦·凯勒

Even in the days before my teacher came， I used to feel along the square stiff box wood hedges， and， guided by the sense of smell， would find the first violets and lilies. There， too， after a fit of temper， I went to find comfort and to hide my hot face in the cool leaves and grass. What joy it was to lose myself in that garden of flowers， to wander happily from spot to spot， until， coming suddenly upon a beautiful vine， I recognized it by its leaves and blossoms， and knew it was the vine which covered the tumble-down summer-house at the farther end of the garden！ Here， also， were trailing clematis， drooping jess a mine， and some rare sweet flowers called butterfly lilies， because their fragile petals resemble butterflies wings. But the roses—they were loveliest of all. Never have I found in the greenhouses of the North such heart-satisfying roses as the climbing roses of my southern home. They used to hang in long festoons from our porch， filling the whole air with their fragrance， untainted by an year thy smell； and in the early morning， washed in the dew， they felt so soft， so pure， I could not help wondering if they did not resemble the asphodels of Gods garden.

The beginning of my life was simple and much like every other little life. I came， I saw， I conquered， as the first baby in the family always does. There was the usual amount of discussion as to a name for me. The first baby in the family was not to be lightly named， everyone was emphatic about that. My father suggested the name of Mildred Campbell， an ancestor whom he highly esteemed， and he declined to take any further part in the discussion. My mother solved the problem by giving it as her wish that I should be called after her mother， whose maiden name was Helen Everett. But in the excitement of carrying me to church， my father lost the name on the way， very naturally， since it was one in which he had declined to have a part. When the minister asked him for it， he just remembered that it had been decided to call me after my grandmother， and he gave her name as Helen Adams.

I am told that while I was still in long dresses I showed many signs of an eager， self-asserting disposition. Everything that I saw other people do I insisted upon imitating. At six months I could pipe out “How dye，” and one day I attracted every ones attention by saying “Tea， tea， tea” quite plainly. Even after my illness I remembered one of the words I had learned in these early months. It was the word “water，” and I continued to make some sound for that word after all other speech was lost. I ceased making the sound “wah-wah” only when I learned to spell the word.

They tell me I walked the day I was one 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 mothers lap and almost ran toward them. The impulse gone， I fell down and cried for her to take me up in her arms.

These happy days did not last long. One brief spring， musical with the song of robin and mocking-bird， one summer rich in fruit and roses， one autumn of gold and crimson sped by and left their gifts at the feet of an eager， delighted child. Then， in the dreary month of February， came the illness which closed my eyes and ears and plunged me into the unconsciousness of a new-born baby. They called it acute congestion of the stomach and brain. The doctor thought I could not live. Early one morning， however， the fever left me as suddenly and mysteriously as it had come. There was great rejoicing in the family that morning， but no one， not even the doctor， knew that I should never see or hear again.

I fancy I still have confused recollections of that illness. I especially remember the tenderness with which my mother tried to soothe me in my waking hours of fret and pain， and the agony and bewilderment with which I awoke after a tossing half sleep， and turned my eyes， so dry and hot， to the wall， away from the once-loved light， which came to me dim and yet more dim each day. But， except for these fleeting memories， if， indeed， they be memories， it all seems very unreal， like a nightmare. Gradually I got used to the silence and darkness that surrounded me and forgot that it had ever been different， until she came—my teacher—who was to set my spirit free. But during the first nineteen months of my life I had caught glimpses of broad， green fields， a luminous sky， trees and flowers which the darkness that followed could not wholly blot out. If we have once seen， “the day is ours， and what the day has shown.”

在我的老师到来之前，我一直习惯于沿着方形的黄杨木树篱摸索前行。嗅觉是我的向导，通过它，我发现了生命中的第一株紫罗兰花和百合花。正是在这座小花园里，在经历了暴躁情绪的发作之后，我继续寻找令我舒适的感觉，我把自己温热的脸埋进凉飕飕的树叶和草丛里。将自己迷失在花丛中是如此令人愉悦，从一个地方寻觅到另一个地方是其乐无穷的。就在探寻的过程中，我突然碰到一枝美丽的藤蔓，我会通过它的叶子和花蕾来辨别它的形状，而且我知道，这就是那覆盖着摇摇欲坠的凉亭，远在花园尽头的葡萄藤！在我身边，还有触手可及的铁线莲，垂落于枝叶间的茉莉花，以及一些名叫蝴蝶百合的稀有花卉，这种花的花瓣因其形似蝴蝶那对脆弱易折的翅膀而得名。而玫瑰，则是这花园中最傲人的。我从来没有在北方的温室里见过长势如此繁茂的玫瑰，花朵沿着门廊形成了一道长长的花径，空气中弥漫着沁人的芳香，那种清醇的味道丝毫不沾染泥土的浊气。每天清晨，在露水的沐浴中，玫瑰娇柔淳美，这时我会禁不住展开神思遐想，这些花儿是不是很像上帝花园中的常春花呢？

就像诸多弱小的生命一样，我生命的伊始朴素而单纯；我出生，我睁眼看世界，我拥有全家人的关心，如同很多百姓家中第一个孩子一样。为了给我起名字，家人还煞费了一番周章。家里的第一个孩子的名字当然马虎不得，家中的每一个人都参与其中。……