Page 170 - The Story of My Lif

There are many new books in the library. What a nice time I shall have reading

them! I have already read Sara Crewe. It is a very pretty story, and I will tell it to
you some time. Now, sweet mother, your little girl must say goodbye.

With much love to father, Mildred, you and all the dear friends, lovingly your
little daughter,

HELEN A. KELLER.

TO JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER

South Boston, Dec. 17, 1890.

Dear Kind Poet,

This is your birthday; that was the first thought which came into my mind when
I awoke this morning; and it made me glad to think I could write you a letter and
tell you how much your little friends love their sweet poet and his birthday. This

evening they are going to entertain their friends with readings from your poems
and music. I hope the swift winged messengers of love will be here to carry
some of the sweet melody to you, in your little study by the Merrimac. At first I
was very sorry when I found that the sun had hidden his shining face behind dull
clouds, but afterwards I thought why he did it, and then I was happy. The sun
knows that you like to see the world covered with beautiful white snow and so
he kept back all his brightness, and let the little crystals form in the sky. When
they are ready, they will softly fall and tenderly cover every object. Then the sun
will appear in all his radiance and fill the world with light. If I were with you to-
day I would give you eighty-three kisses, one for each year you have lived.
Eighty-three years seems very long to me.

Does it seem long to you? I wonder how many years there will be in eternity. I
am afraid I cannot think about so much time. I received the letter which you
wrote to me last summer, and I thank you for it. I am staying in Boston now at
the Institution for the Blind, but I have not commenced my studies yet, because