学生英语Three Days to See
by Helen Keller
Helen Keller, blind and deaf from infancy, became a successful lecturer, author and educator with the help of her teacher. In the following essay, she discusd how people should value their ability to e.
All of us have read thrilling stories in which the hero had only a limited and specified time to live. Sometimes it was as long as a year; sometimes as short as twenty-four hours. But always we were interested in discovering just how the doomed man cho to spend his last days or his last hours. I speak, of cour, of free men who have a choice, not condemned criminals who sphere of activities is strictly delimited.
Such stories t us thinking, wondering what we should do under similar circumstances. What events, what experiences, what associations should we crowd into tho last hours as mortal beings? What happiness should we find in reviewing the past, what regrets?
宝宝奶粉喝到几岁Sometimes I have thought it would be an excellent rule to live each day as if we should die tomorrow. Such an attitude would emphasize sharply the values of life. We should live each day with a gentleness, a vigor, and a keenness of appreciation which are often lost when time stretches before us in the constant panorama of more days and months and years to come. There are tho, of cour, who would adopt the Epicurean motto of “Eat, drink, and be merry;” but most people would be chastened by the certainty of impending death. 学生减肥瘦身
In stories, the doomed hero is usually saved at the last minute by some stroke of fortune, but almost always his n of values is changed. He becomes more appreciative of the meaning of life and its permanent spiritual values. It has often been noted that tho who live, or have lived, in the shadow of death bring a mellow sweetness to everything they do.
我的好儿媳李洁Most of us, however, take life for granted. We know that one day we must die, but usually we picture that day as far in the future. When we are in buoyant health, death is all but un
表格计算年龄imaginable. We ldom think of it. The days stretch out in an endless vista. So we go about our petty tasks, hardly aware of our listless attitude toward life.
The same lethargy, I am afraid, characterizes the u of all our faculties and ns. Only the deaf appreciate hearing, only the blind realize the manifold blessings that lie in sight. Particularly does this obrvation apply to tho who have lost sight and hearing in adult life. But tho who have never suffered impairment of sight or hearing ldom make the fullest u of the blesd faculties. Their eyes and ears take in all sights and sounds hazily, without concentration, and with little appreciation. It is the same old story of not being grateful for what we have until we lo it, of not being conscious of health until we are ill.
I have often thought it would be a blessing if each human being were stricken blind and deaf for a few days at some time during his early adult life. Darkness would make him more appreciative of sight; silence would teach him the joys of sound.
Now and then I have tested my eing friends to discover what they e. Recently I was
visited by a very good friend who had just returned from a long walk in the woods, and I asked her what she had obrved. “Nothing in particular,” she replied. I might have been incredulous had I not been accustomed to such respons, for long ago I became convinced that the eing e little.
How was it possible, I asked mylf, to walk for an hour through the woods and e nothing worthy of note? I who cannot e find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch. I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver birch, or the rough shaggy bark of a pine. In spring I touch the branches of trees hopefully in arch of a bud, the first sign of awakening Nature after her winter's sleep. I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower, and discover its remarkable convolutions; and something of the miracle of Nature is revealed to me. Occasionally, if I am very fortunate, I place my hand gently on a small tree and feel the happy quiver of a bird in full song. I am delighted to have the cool water of a brook rush through my open fingers. To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug. To me the pageant of asons is a thrilling
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and unending drama, the action of which streams through my finger tips.
At times my heart cries out with longing to e all the things. If I can get so much pleasure from mere touch, how much more beauty must be revealed by sight. Yet, tho who have eyes apparently e little. The panorama of colour and action which fills the world is taken for granted. It is human, perhaps, to appreciate little that which we have and to long for that which we have not, but it is a great pity that in the world of light the gift of sight is ud only as a mere convenience rather than as a means of adding fullness to life.
If I were the president of a university I should establish a compulsory cour in “How to U Your Eyes”. The professor would try to show his pupils how they could add joy to their lives by really eing what pass unnoticed before them. He would try to awake their dormant and sluggish faculties.
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