the most important day I remember in all my life is the one on which my teacher, Anne Mansfield Sullivan, came to me. I am filled with wonder when I consider the immeasurable contrast between the two lives which it connects. It was the third of march,1887,three months before I was seven years old.The morning after my teacher came,she led me into her
room and gave me a doll.When I had played with it a little while,Miss Sullivan slowly spelled into my hand the word "d-o-l-l."I was at once interested in this finger play and tried to imitate it.When I finally succeeded in making the letters correctly,Iwas filled with childish pleasure and pride. Running downstairs to my mother,I held up my hand and made the letters for "doll." I did not know that I was spelling a word or even that words existed;I simply made my fingers go in monkey like imitation. In the day that followed,I learned to spell in this uncomprehending way many word,among them "pin," "hat." "cup." and a few verbs like "sit." "stand." and "walk." but my teacher has been with me serveral weeks before I understood that everything at a name.