海伦·凯勒自传《我的生活》第8期
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Chapter IV
The most important day I remember in all my life is the one on which my teacher
Anne Mansfield Sullivan
came to me. I am filled with wonder when I consider the immeasurable contrasts beeen the o lives which it connects. It was the third of March
1887
three months before I was seven years old.
On the afternoon of that eventful day
I stood on the porch
dumb
expectant. I guessed vaguely from my mother's signs and from the hurrying to and fro in the house that something unusual was about to happen
so I went to the door and waited on the steps. The afternoon sun perated the mass of honeysuckle that covered the porch
and fell on my upturned face. My fingers lingered almost unconsciously on the familiar leaves and blossoms which had just e forth to greet the sweet southern spring. I did not know what the future held of marvel or surprise for me. Anger and bitterness had preyed upon me continually for weeks and a deep languor had succeeded this passionate struggle.
那天下午，我站在门廊里，似乎在默默地期待着什么。我从房间里人们忙前忙后的动静，以及母亲的手势里隐约地猜到，家里要有什么事发生。所以，我就走出房门坐在台阶上等着。午后的阳光穿透门廊上茂密的金银花藤，暖暖地洒落在我仰起的脸上。我的手指不由自主地游移在那些熟悉的叶片和花蕾之间，初生的枝蔓似乎也忙不迭地向南方的春日致意。我不知道我的未来会发生什么样的奇迹，一连好几个星期，懊恼和苦闷折磨着我，深深的无助感令我抗争不得。
Have you ever been at sea in a dense fog
when it seemed as if a tangible white darkness shut you in
and the great ship
tense and anxious
groped her way toward the shore with plummet and sounding-line
and you waited with beating heart for something to happen? I was like that ship before my education began
only I was without pass or sounding-line
and had no way of knowing how near the harbour was. "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 e 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 unprehending way a great many words
among them pin
hat
cup and a few verbs like sit
stand and walk. But my teacher had been with me several weeks before I understood that everything has a name.
The most important day I remember in all my life is the one on which my teacher
Anne Mansfield Sullivan
came to me. I am filled with wonder when I consider the immeasurable contrasts beeen the o lives which it connects. It was the third of March
1887
three months before I was seven years old.
On the afternoon of that eventful day
I stood on the porch
dumb
expectant. I guessed vaguely from my mother's signs and from the hurrying to and fro in the house that something unusual was about to happen
so I went to the door and waited on the steps. The afternoon sun perated the mass of honeysuckle that covered the porch
and fell on my upturned face. My fingers lingered almost unconsciously on the familiar leaves and blossoms which had just e forth to greet the sweet southern spring. I did not know what the future held of marvel or surprise for me. Anger and bitterness had preyed upon me continually for weeks and a deep languor had succeeded this passionate struggle.
那天下午，我站在门廊里，似乎在默默地期待着什么。我从房间里人们忙前忙后的动静，以及母亲的手势里隐约地猜到，家里要有什么事发生。所以，我就走出房门坐在台阶上等着。午后的阳光穿透门廊上茂密的金银花藤，暖暖地洒落在我仰起的脸上。我的手指不由自主地游移在那些熟悉的叶片和花蕾之间，初生的枝蔓似乎也忙不迭地向南方的春日致意。我不知道我的未来会发生什么样的奇迹，一连好几个星期，懊恼和苦闷折磨着我，深深的无助感令我抗争不得。
Have you ever been at sea in a dense fog
when it seemed as if a tangible white darkness shut you in
and the great ship
tense and anxious
groped her way toward the shore with plummet and sounding-line
and you waited with beating heart for something to happen? I was like that ship before my education began
only I was without pass or sounding-line
and had no way of knowing how near the harbour was. "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 e 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 unprehending way a great many words
among them pin
hat
cup and a few verbs like sit
stand and walk. But my teacher had been with me several weeks before I understood that everything has a name.
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