Page 280 - The Story of My Lif

Since I have abandoned the idea of regular lessons, I find that Helen learns much

faster. I am convinced that the time spent by the teacher in digging out of the
child what she has put into him, for the sake of satisfying herself that it has taken
root, is so much time thrown away. IT’S MUCH BETTER, I THINK, TO
ASSUME

THAT THE CHILD IS DOING HIS PART, AND THAT THE SEED YOU
HAVE SOWN

WILL BEAR FRUIT IN DUE TIME. It’s only fair to the child, anyhow, and it
saves you much unnecessary trouble.

May 16, 1887.

We have begun to take long walks every morning, immediately after breakfast.
The weather is fine, and the air is full of the scent of strawberries. Our objective
point is Keller’s Landing, on the Tennessee, about two miles distant. We never
know how we get there, or where we are at a given moment; but that only adds
to our enjoyment, especially when everything is new and strange.

Indeed, I feel as if I had never seen anything until now, Helen finds so much to
ask about along the way. We chase butterflies, and sometimes catch one. Then
we sit down under a tree, or in the shade of a bush, and talk about it. Afterwards,
if it has survived the lesson, we let it go; but usually its life and beauty are

sacrificed on the altar of learning, though in another sense it lives forever; for
has it not been transformed into living thoughts? It is wonderful how words
generate ideas! Every new word Helen learns seems to carry with it necessity for
many more. Her mind grows through its ceaseless activity.

Keller’s Landing was used during the war to land troops, but has long since gone

to pieces, and is overgrown with moss and weeds.

The solitude of the place sets one dreaming. Near the landing there is a beautiful
little spring, which Helen calls “squirrel-cup,” because I told her the squirrels