Page 271 - The Story of My Lif

March 28, 1887.

Helen and I came home yesterday. I am sorry they wouldn’t let us stay another
week; but I think I have made the most I could of the opportunities that were
mine the past two weeks, and I don’t expect that I shall have any serious trouble
with Helen in the future. The back of the greatest obstacle in the path of progress
is broken. I think “no” and “yes,” conveyed by a shake or a nod of my head,
have become facts as apparent to her as hot and cold or as the difference between
pain and pleasure. And I don’t intend that the lesson she has learned at the cost

of so much pain and trouble shall be unlearned. I shall stand between her and the
over-indulgence of her parents. I have told Captain and Mrs. Keller that they
must not interfere with me in any way. I have done my best to make them see the
terrible injustice to Helen of allowing her to have her way in everything, and I
have pointed out that the processes of teaching the child that everything cannot
be as he wills it, are apt to be painful both to him and to his teacher. They have
promised to let me have a free hand and help me as much as possible. The
improvement they cannot help seeing in their child has given them more
confidence in me. Of course, it is hard for them. I realize that it hurts to see their
afflicted little child punished and made to do things against her will. Only a few
hours after my talk with Captain and Mrs. Keller (and they had agreed to
everything), Helen took a notion that she wouldn’t use her napkin at table. I
think she wanted to see what would happen. I attempted several times to put the
napkin round her neck; but each time she tore it off and threw it on the floor and
finally began to kick the table. I took her plate away and started to take her out
of the room. Her father objected and said that no child of his should be deprived

of his food on any account.

Helen didn’t come up to my room after supper, and I didn’t see her again until
breakfast-time. She was at her place when I came down. She had put the napkin
under her chin, instead of pinning it at the back, as was her custom. She called
my attention to the new arrangement, and when I did not object she seemed

pleased and patted herself. When she left the dining-room, she took my hand and
patted it. I wondered if she was trying to “make up.” I thought I would try the