If You Give Me Three Days of Light: The Best Collection of Helen Keller

Chapter 7 My Life (5)
After spending only one day with these blind children, I was completely used to my new life here and felt right at home.As each day passes, I look forward to another day, and I yearn for pleasurable experiences every day.I see Boston as where everything begins and ends, and I can hardly believe that there are other, wider worlds out there.

While in Boston, we visited Bunker Hill.I learned my first history lesson there.Under our feet are the positions where the warriors once fought, and I am moved by their fearlessness.On the way to pay homage to the monument on the top of the mountain, while counting the steps, I imagined the scene when the heroes bravely climbed and shot down at the enemy.

The next day we sailed to Plymouth, my first time at sea on a steamship.It's unbelievable that a ship can hold so many people!At first the ship rumbled and I thought it was going to thunder and started crying because I was afraid that if it rained we wouldn't be able to go to our picnic.

After arriving in Plymouth, what interested me most was the huge reef where the Pilgrims landed.When I touched these rocks, all the epic deeds of the early Puritans who opened up the territory came to mind, and I truly realized the hardships and great achievements of the ancestors.I often hold in my hand a small model of "Plymouth Rock," given to me by a kind gentleman in the Puritan Memorial; Embossed numerals "1620".

When I was a child, I regarded the brilliant achievements of the Puritans as the most noble and greatest thing in the world!I idealized the ancestors as brave and courageous pioneers, and felt that it was very difficult for them to find a home in a strange land.And they not only want to fight for freedom for themselves, but also for the interests of the nation.But many years later, I learned that their departure was due to persecution, which made me deeply shocked and disappointed, and I was ashamed of the irrational behavior of human beings.

Mr. William Endicott and his daughter were two of the very fine friends I made in Boston.Their kindness is like the seeds sown in my heart. As time goes by, many good memories slowly blossom and bear fruit.Once, we went to Beverly to visit their beautiful farm together.

I still clearly remember the scene at that time: how I walked through their rose garden happily; how I met their big dog Leo and Fritz the curly long-eared puppy; And how Manningro stuck out his nose and ate the butter and sugar cubes in my hand.I still remember the beach where I first played with the sand.It was a hard, smooth sand, not at all like Brewster's sand, which was mixed with seaweed and shells and made it sticky.Mr. Endicott also told me about the great ship sailing from Boston for Europe.I have seen him many times since, and he has been a dear friend of mine, and it is because of him that I call Boston the City of Mercy.

kiss the sea
Mrs. Sullivan and I planned to go to Brewster, Cape Cod, when the Perkins Institute for the Blind was out for the summer, with our dear friend Mrs. Hopkins.I was so excited because all I could think about was happy journeys and amazing stories about the sea.

My fondest memory of that summer is the ocean.Because I've always lived in the outback and never breathed salty air.But I once read a thick book called "Our Earth". The description of the ocean in the book gave me a very urgent impulse. I longed to touch the majestic ocean and feel the roar of the huge waves. .So when I knew my long-held wish was finally coming true, my heart was pounding.

When we got to the beach, I couldn't wait to change into my swimsuit, no matter how big or small the waves were, I went straight to the warm sandy beach.I touched huge undulating rocks and puddles in the rocks.Drifting in the undulating waters, I trembled with joy.But then, my joy turned to fear.My foot hit a rock, and then a stream of water rushed over my head.I reached out to grab something that would hold me up, but I just caught drifting seaweed.Frantic efforts are futile.The waves seemed to be playing a game with me, tossing me wildly and carelessly.This process is really scary!Comfortable, solid land slipped away from under my feet, and life, air, care, and friendship seemed to be blocked out by this strange natural environment.Finally, the sea seemed to tire of its new toy, and threw me back on shore.Then, I was hugged tightly by Teacher Sullivan.Oh!How reassuring is that long, tender hug!But as soon as I recovered from the panic, I forgot about the sea again and asked the question: "Can anyone get the sea water out of the sea?"

After my first water adventure, I got a taste of the sea, and I thought that sitting quietly on a big rock in a bathing suit would be the most fun thing.So that's what I did, I felt the waves crashing against the rocks, and the splash of the waves made me drenched.I also felt the clatter of pebbles as the waves rolled towards the shore.The whole beach seemed to be under the terrible attack of the waves, and the air became restless.The tumbling waves first receded and converged, and then swooped down with a powerful leap.I didn't move at all, I was stuck on the reef, nervous and excited, and I was completely fascinated by the turbulent waves of the sea.

I can never have enough of being by the coast.To me, shells, pebbles, seaweed, and the tiny creatures that cling to them are irresistible.The clean, fresh and unrestrained breath of the sea can always calm down and think about problems calmly.

One day, Mrs. Sullivan caught a strange guy from the shallows. This strange species immediately caught my attention.It was actually a giant soft-shelled turtle, and I had never seen such a sea creature before.As I touched it, I thought that this strange creature must have carried its house on its back.I figured maybe he could make a lovely pet if he was brought back and fed.So, I grabbed its tail with great interest and wanted to take it home.But it was so heavy that it took almost all my strength to carry it half a mile.

Later, Mrs. Sullivan put it in the sink near the well, and I thought it must be safe there.But when we went to check the sink the next morning, it was gone!No one knows where it went or how it escaped.At the time, I was terribly disappointed, but as time went on I came to realize that it was neither good nor wise to place this poor speechless creature in its strange surroundings.But then I thought about it probably returning to the sea. After thinking about it like this, my mood became clear again.

beautiful autumn

I returned home to the South in the autumn with great joy.I have learned a lot from this wonderful trip to the North, knowing that the world has only just shown itself to me, and that a beautiful world lies at my feet, waiting to be explored.In every surprise, I draw joy and knowledge.I integrate myself into everything, and I never have a moment's rest. Like those swarms of small insects, I will rush through the short day.I have met many people who "talked" to me by spelling on the palm of my hand, and happy, compassionate thoughts collided between the two interlocutors, so you see, it was a miracle the link to!That is to say, between my thoughts and other people's thoughts, although there is no grass and no grass, beautiful flowers of wisdom can still bloom.

My family and I spent the entire autumn at a mountain lodge about fourteen miles from Tuscumbia.They called it the Fern Quarry, because there was a limestone mine near there, but it was abandoned a long time ago.Three merry little streams flowed through it, and these streams from the mountain spring laughed and swayed from side to side and went on, no matter what rocks stood in their way.Dense forests cover most of the mountain, ranging from giant oaks to evergreens.The trunks of these trees are like moss-covered columns, and the branches are covered with garlands of ivy and mistletoe.There is also a persimmon tree nearby, and the sweet smell of the fruit permeates every corner of the dense forest. This illusory and hazy fragrance makes people feel happy.Wild muscadines and scabbagnon vines form a single mass, and the vines are always covered with butterflies and buzzing insects of all kinds.Every evening, the valley exudes a refreshing and pleasant atmosphere. How can it not be refreshing and intoxicating to be in it.

The place where we lived was modest, but it was beautifully situated on top of a hill surrounded by oak and pine trees.There is an open hall on all four sides of the house, which is surrounded by a wide veranda.The mountain wind blows through here, bringing the mellow fragrance of the trees.We spent most of our time on the veranda, which is where we worked, ate and played.There is also a huge butternut tree around the back door of the house, and steps have been built around it.I am so close to these trees that I can easily touch the branches and leaves blown by the wind.

We are often visited by many people, so Fern Quarry receives many visitors every day.Every night, hunters gather around the campfire to play poker or chat to pass the time.They told of birding, fishing, and hunting feats—how many mallards and turkeys they shot, how they caught savage salmon, how they snared cunning foxes, how they outwitted clever possums, how they chased swiftly. reindeer.I think that in front of these experienced hunters, even large beasts like lions, tigers, and bears will suffer.When the small groups of hunters dispersed, the cry of "hunting tomorrow" became their farewell words to say good night.They all slept in the corridor outside the door, and every night, I could feel the deep snores of the hunters and their hounds.

In the morning, I would be awakened by the smell of coffee, the impact of shotguns, and the heavy footsteps of hunters.I know they are striding out of the house to find their luck this hunting season.I could also feel the vibration of the hooves of the horses, usually chained under trees far from town at night.After standing all night, the horses neighed loudly, eager to get free.At last the men mounted the horses, and, as the old song goes, they whipped the horses, and, surrounded by the hounds, they galloped to the battle;

After daybreak, we began to prepare for the wild barbecue.First set up a bonfire, which is built in a deep pit, and then put a large firewood on top of the fire, and then hang the meat on it for roasting, so the meat sizzles and smokes, and the tempting aroma fills the air.A circle of negroes squatted around the fire, and they kept fending off moths with long branches.Before the table was set, I was hungry because of the savory taste.

Just when the busy and exciting preparations were almost completed, the hunters came back in twos and threes. Although everyone was exhausted, their enthusiasm remained undiminished.The mature horses were sweating profusely and foaming at the mouth; the old horses were panting and dejected.But there is something even more frustrating, that is, not a single prey was caught!Every hunter claims to have seen at least one deer, and has been very close to the prey. However, no matter how dedicated the hounds are, how accurate the hunter's muzzle is, the moment the trigger is pulled, the deer Suddenly disappeared.

They were as happy as little boys when they told of the hunt.It's not a fairy tale where a little boy used to say that he saw a rabbit up close and saw the rabbit's tracks.But no matter what the outcome, the disappointment was quickly dispelled by the laughter of the party.We sat around and stopped talking about game.Because we still have family favorites like veal and suckling pig to enjoy.

That summer I took my foal to Fern Quarry too.I named it "Black Beauty," the title of a book I just read.That's aptly called it, and it's handsome, from its shiny black "coat" to the white star on its forehead.I had the happiest time on it.Sometimes, under the premise of ensuring safety, Mrs. Sullivan will let go of the rein and let my little pony wander leisurely in the forest. When it is happy, it will stop to graze, and sometimes gnaw on the road Young leaves on a side tree.

When I wasn't riding in the morning, I would go for a walk in the forest with Mrs. Sullivan.We lost ourselves completely among the vines and greenery, and had nowhere to go but the paths trodden by horses and cows.Consequently, the bushes that block our way often force us to take a detour.But in the end we would come home to the cabin with bouquets of laurel boughs, goldenrods, bracken, and marsh flowers that can only be found in the South, with our arms full.

Sometimes, I also went to pick persimmons with my little cousins ​​and Mildred.I don't eat them, but I love the smell of persimmons and the feeling of searching for fruit among the leaves and in the grass.We also go nut gathering, and I help them peel chestnuts, or crack walnuts and hickory nuts, which, by the way, are big and delicious!

We kids sometimes go to the railway line at the foot of the mountain and watch the trains roar by.The frightening sound of the siren often draws us up the steps.Mildred told me excitedly that there was a cow or a horse still wandering on the track.A viaduct spans the deep valley about a mile away along the line of the railway.It's hard to get through there. The canyon is very wide and the bridge is extremely narrow. Walking on it is like walking on a knife's edge. I've never been there.

Once, Mildred, Miss Sullivan, and I got lost in the forest, and we wandered around for hours without finding a way home.Suddenly, Mildred pointed ahead and exclaimed, "There's a viaduct over there!" I knew it was better to go either way than that, but it was getting late and the viaduct was the closest passage to home.So, we had to use our toes to explore the bridge railings.Luckily, I wasn't scared and felt fine.But as he walked, there was a faint hissing sound coming from a distance.

"I see the train!" cried Mildred.I figured if we hadn't climbed quickly to the girders below, a minute later the train would be heading towards us.I could feel the steam from the locomotive around me, and the smoke and dust almost suffocated us.When the train rumbled past us, the iron bridge was also shaken, and I thought we would fall into the deep valley under our feet at any moment.After a lot of trouble, we finally got back on the track again.It was already dark when we got home, but there was no one in the hut. It turned out that our family members were very worried about us and they all went out to look for us.

snow World
After that trip to Boston, I will spend almost every winter in the north.I once visited a village in New England, and I was impressed by the icy lakes and vast snowfields there.If I hadn't been there, I would never have experienced the magical charm of the ice and snow world.

I am amazed to find that in winter the great trees and shrubs are ravaged by the mysterious hand of nature, leaving only a few wrinkled leaves on the branches.The birds flew away too, and the nests among the dead leaves were filled with snow.The mountains and fields are also in winter weather, and the ground is frozen stiff and numb under the touch of ice and snow.The souls of the trees retreated to their roots, and they curled up in the dark underground to sleep.All living things seemed to disappear, and even the sunlight of the day became short and cold, as if she was entering old age, and her blood became old and withered, but she swore to fight against old age, just to have another look The earth and sea in her heart.

Soon after, a strong cold air came here, which heralded the approaching blizzard.We rushed outside to meet the first flakes of snow to fall.Hour after hour passed, the snowflakes fell silently, and the vast fields became white.The snowy night tightly surrounds the world, and early the next morning, people can hardly recognize the scenery in front of them. The dry grass and shrubs and all the roads are hidden, and there is no landmark building in sight. Only a forest covered with snow is left.

In the evening, a gust of wind from the northeast will blow the snowflakes flying all over the sky.The family sat around the roaring fire, telling funny stories and playing, oblivious to the wind and snow outside.But as the wind increased, we also felt inexplicable fear.The rafters creaked, the branches of the trees around the house rattled against the windows, and the wind grew stronger.

(End of this chapter)