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on the letter A. It mostly reminded me of a haystack. Well not an actual haystack but once a story my teacher read me as I went to bed. It was not easy, but this persistent and gifted teacher had constructed the whole story out of sticks and the best part was when she got to the haystack with the little boy asleep, she lingered over the little toy soldier signifying the Little Boy Blue Fast asleep.

Then she kissed me and covered me and believe it or not, I felt quite safe. But that was not it. The A was not a haystack. The water stopped trickling and again she placed the W in my hand and then the A and then the water gushed out again. So, what she was saying had something to do with water. No light yet, inside it was dark but maybe a small star out of the east was shining through.

Nearer I got to the clue, the more frustrated I became. That is until she pressed the letter T in my hand, and then I immediately associated it with the handle on my little red wagon. I was getting somewhere. I sensed that I was in the neighborhood of water because often we used this wagon to carry our water supplies from the big house to our little cottage.

With the picture of WAT firmly etched in my memory, I felt the letter E as it was pressed into my hand. I thought of the headless doll that sat on my bed and I started to cry. It was headless because in my fury I had pulled its head off, thinking I did not want it to be such a dumb thing as I was. At this, my teacher had the pump stopped and dried my hands on her handkerchief and placed them on my wet cheeks, and hugged and hugged me until my sobbing stopped.

The connection between tears and the water that was now allowed to trickle down from the pump became obvious. A tiny, tiny, ray of light lighted up the inside that was dark. But only for a second, then a full gush of water poured out and then an R was pressed into my hand. I had a little trouble associating but then it dawned!

The R was the pump and the letter had spelled out the word WATER. I had opened a window and let light into the inside that was dark. In only three or four hours I had lots of words and would have had more but my hand was slightly bruised and needed to rest. I quickly became a celebrity and light flooded in. No longer was the inside dark, but was shimmering with light.

Oh yes, I forgot to tell you. My name is Helen Keller and if you want proof of this story, and to learn of my lifelong escapades, just search for me on the internet. There my little light shines brightly. (P.S. I love you, Anne and Polly, wherever you are.)

(Inspiration for this story was reading the Helen Keller Story.It is by no means factual, other than her blindness and her teacher. All else is fiction based on a few facts.)

Learn more about this author, EMoore.
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