Page 160 - The Story of My Lif

I am reading a very sad story, called “Little Jakey.” Jakey was the sweetest little
fellow you can imagine, but he was poor and blind. I used to think—when I was
small, and before I could read—that everybody was always happy, and at first it

made me very sad to know about pain and great sorrow; but now I know that we
could never learn to be brave and patient, if there were only joy in the world.

I am studying about insects in zoology, and I have learned many things about
butterflies. They do not make honey for us, like the bees, but many of them are
as beautiful as the flowers they light upon, and they always delight the hearts of

little children. They live a gay life, flitting from flower to flower, sipping the
drops of honeydew, without a thought for the morrow. They are just like little
boys and girls when they forget books and studies, and run away to the woods
and the fields, to gather wild flowers, or wade in the ponds for fragrant lilies,
happy in the bright sunshine.

If my little sister comes to Boston next June, will you let me bring her to see
you? She is a lovely baby, and I am sure you will love her.

Now I must tell my gentle poet goodbye, for I have a letter to write home before
I go to bed.

From your loving little friend,

HELEN A. KELLER.

TO MISS SARAH FULLER [Miss Fuller gave Helen Keller her first lesson in
articulation. See Chapter IV, Speech.]

South Boston, Mass., April 3, 1890.