The Story of My Life

No deaf child who has earnestly tried to speak the words which he has never heardβ€”to come out of the prison of silence, where no tone of love, no song of bird, no strain of music ever pierces the stillnessβ€”can forget the thrill of surprise, the joy of discovery which came over him when he uttered his first word. Only such a one can appreciate the eagerness with which I talked to my toys, to stones, trees, birds and dumb animals, or the delight I felt when at my call Mildred ran to me or my dogs obeyed my commands. It is an unspeakable boon to me to be able to speak in winged words that need no interpretation. As I talked, happy thoughts fluttered up out of my words that might perhaps have struggled in vain to escape my fingers.

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