Ihadnowthekeytoalllanguage,andIwaseagertolearntouseit.Childrenwhohearacquirelanguagewithoutanyparticulareffort;thewordsthatfallfromotherslipstheycatthewing,asitwere,delightedly,whilethelittledeafchildmusttrapthembyaslowandoftenpainfulprocess.Butwhatevertheprocess,theresultiswonderful.GraduallyfromnamingaweadvaepbystepuntilwehavetraversedthevastdistaweenourfirststammeredsyllableandthesweepofthoughtinalineofShakespeare.

    Atfirst,whenmyteachertoldmeaboutahingIaskedveryfewquestions.Myideaswerevague,andmyvocabularywasie;butasmyknowledgeofthingsgrew,andIlearnedmoreandmorewords,myfieldofinquirybroadened,andIwouldreturnagainandagaintothesamesubject,eagerforfurtherinformation.Sometimesanewwordrevivedanimagethatsomeearlierexperiencehadengravedonmybrain.

    IrememberthemthatIfirstaskedthemeaningoftheword,"love."ThiswasbeforeIknewmanywords.Ihadfoundafewearlyvioletsinthegardenandbroughtthemtomyteacher.Shetriedtokissme:butatthattimeIdidnotliketohaveanyonekissmeexceptmymother.MissSullivanputherarmgentlyroundmeandspelledintomyhand,"IloveHelen.”

    "Whatislove?"Iasked.

    Shedrewmeclosertoherandsaid,"Itishere,"pointingtomyheart,whosebeatsIwassciousofforthefirsttime.HerwordspuzzledmeverymuchbecauseIdidnottheandanythinguouchedit.

    Ismeltthevioletsinherhandandasked,halfinwords,halfinsigns,aquestionwhichmeant,"Islovethesweetnessofflowers?”

    "No,"saidmyteacher.

    AgainIthought.Thewarmsunwasshiningonus.