Annie Sullivan had a very hard childhood. With her life experience, she was meant to teach Helen Keller. What an amazing pair they made! Annie sacrificed so much to give Helen an education.
I am in awe at the literary genius of Helen Keller. Even though she was blind and deaf, she could write beautifully, read literature in many different languages, and graduate from college. She couldn't have done it without Annie. The two were inseparable, and so to combine their two stories into one volume is perfect in every way! You'll be inspired by their perseverance, love of life and learning, and words of wisdom.
Some of my favorite quotes:
-Helen was doing remarkably well in her college work. People marveled at her. She was like an airplane, sailing serenely, smoothly, effortlessly through the sky. And Annie was the hardworking, throbbing motor, unnoticed as when you watch an aircraft high overhead. Should the motor fail, however, the plane would fall crashing to the earth. p.102
-Annie also talked about her theories of education. She thought it was a mistake to try to fit every child into a mold and to try to force him to learn things for which he had no aptitude or interest. "But freedom," she would say, "does not mean that he should be allowed to grow like a weed or a barbarian. Nothing worthwhile is ever got without effort. I am thoroughly convinced that the child must not have forced upon him things he is not interested in because he is not ready for them. I am equally certain that learning must not be merely haphazard play. He must not nibble the sweets and leave out the substance.
There must be coherence and an effective process of stimulating his pleasure in a given subject until he has gained the mental discipline necessary to pursue it further. Joyous freedom must be wedded to accuracy and clear understanding, through which come self-discipline and self-control. The teacher must not let him scatter his efforts, his will and his curiosity by studying in a careless, inattentive manner. The true function of the teacher is to keep him interested." p.117-118
-"...wait a little, and the splendid, silent sun shall pour its sweet balm upon you. Then perhaps the still, small voice in your heart will whisper a message of peace that you can hear amid the silent glory of the snow-robed mountains." p. 123
-"No matter what happens, keep on beginning and failing. Each time you fail, start all over again, and you will grow stronger,until you have accomplished a purpose." p. 145
-"Here's to my teacher, whose birthday was Easter morning in my life." p.160
-For a long time, I had not regular lessons. Even when I studied most earnestly, it seemed more like play than work. Everything Miss Sullivan taught me, she illustrated by a beautiful story or a poem. Whenever anything delighted or interested me, she talked it over with me just as if she were a little girl herself. What many children think of with dread, as a painful plodding through grammar, hard sums, and harder definitions, is today one of my most precious memories. p. 192
-Thus, I learned from life itself. At the beginning I was only a little mass of possibilities. It was my teacher who unfolded and developed them. When she came, everything about me breathed of love and joy and was full of meaning. She has never since let pass an opportunity to point out the beauty that is in everything, nor has she ceased trying in thought and action and example to make my life sweet and useful.
It was my teacher's genius, her quick sympathy, her loving tact which made the first years of my education so beautiful. It was because she seized the right moment to impart knowledge that made it so pleasant and acceptable to me. She realized that a child's mind is like a shallow brook which ripples and dances merrily over the stony course of education and reflects here a flower, there a bush, yonder a fleecy cloud; and she attempted to guide my mind on its way, knowing that like a brook it should be fed by mountain streams and hidden springs, until it broadened out into a deep river, capable of reflecting in its placid surface, billowy hills, the luminous shadows of trees and the blue heavens, as well as the sweet face of a little flower.
Any teacher can take a child to the classroom, but not every teacher can make him learn. He will not work joyously unless he feels that liberty is his, whether he is busy or at rest; he must feel the flush of victory and the heart-sinking of disappointment before he takes with a will the tasks distasteful to him and resolves to dance his way bravely through a dull routine of textbooks.
My teacher is so near to me that I scarcely think of myself apart from her. How much of my delight in all beautiful things is innate, and how much is due to her influence, I can never tell. I feel that her being is inseparable from my own, and that the footsteps of my life are in hers. All the best of me belongs to her--there is not a talent, or an aspiration, or a joy in me that has not been awakened by her loving touch. p. 195-196
-The one I felt and still feel most is lack of time. I used to have time to think, to reflect, my mind and I. We would sit together in the evening and listen to the inner melodies of the spirit, which one hears only in leisure moments when the words of some loved poet touch a deep, sweet chord in the soul that until then had been silent. But in college there is no time to commune with one's thoughts. One goes to college to learn, it seems, not to think. When one enters the portals of learning, one leaves the dearest pleasures--solitude, books, and imagination--outside with the whispering pines. I suppose I ought to find some comfort in the thought that I am laying up treasures for future enjoyment, but I am improvident enough to prefer present joy to hoarding riches against a rainy day. p.249
-Is it not true, then, that my life with all its limitations touches at many points the life of the World Beautiful? Everything has its wonders, even darkness and silence, and I learn, whatever state I may be in, therein to be content. p.275
-Silence sits immense upon my soul. Then comes hope with a smile and whispers, "There is joy in self-forgetfulness." So I try to make the light in others' eyes my sun, the music in others' ears my symphony, the smile on others' lips my happiness. p. 275