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My Story

Creator: Helen Keller (author)
Date: January 4, 1894
Publication: The Youth's Companion
Source: Available at selected libraries

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When the dog-lovers in England and America heard that my dog had been killed, they were very sorry and kindly offered to raise money to buy me another Mastiff. Then I knew that my beautiful dog's death would be the means of bringing light and joy to a desolate life. I wrote to the kind gentlemen, and asked them to send me the money, which they proposed raising, to help educate Tommy -Stringer- instead of buying me another dog.

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Little Tommy's story is a very sad one. I first heard of him one vacation, while visiting some dear friends in Pennsylvania. He was then in one of the hospitals in Pittsburgh. When he was only four years old he had a dreadful illness which deprived him of his sight and hearing. His mother died when he was a mere infant, and his father was too poor to have him educated. So he remained in the hospital, blind and deaf, and dumb, and small and friendless altogether. Could there be a more pitiful condition?

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When I returned to Boston the following autumn Tommy was constantly in my thoughts. I told my friends about him, and Mr. Anagnos promised he would find a place for my little human plantlet in the beautiful Child's Garden, which the kind people of Boston have given to little sightless children, if I would raise money to pay his teacher and other expenses.

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That seemed to me an easy thing to do. I knew that the world was full of love and sympathy, and that an appeal in behalf of a helpless little child would meet with a loving response. And so it did. The dog-lovers started a Tommy-fund immediately; little children began to work for him, and people in far-away states, and even in England and Canada, sent their offerings of money and sympathy.

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In a very short time enough money was raised to pay Tommy's expenses for a year, and he was brought to Boston, and a sunny corner in the Child's Garden was found for him, and in that bright, warm atmosphere of love the little human flower soon learned to grow, and the darkness which had enfolded his child-life so closely melted away. So love is the most beautiful thing in all the world. "Love, -- no other word we utter, Can so sweet and precious be."

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I will here end this little story of my childhood. I am spending the winter at my home in the lovely south, the land of sunshine and flowers, surrounded by all that makes life sweet and natural; loving parents, a precious baby brother, a tender little sister and the dearest teacher in the world. My life is full of happiness. Every day brings me some new joy, some fresh token of love from distant friends, until in the fullness of my glad heart, I cry: "Love is everything! And God is Love!"

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