Three Days to See
Have you ever heard the story of Helen Keller? Sometime as a child I remember seeing the movie, The Miracle Worker and being deeply touched by this story of a teacher and her deaf-blind student. Even as a kid I could understand how incredibly hard it must have been to be both deaf and blind for Helen Keller.
So when I came across Helen’s story in a old book I found while cleaning out our office, I was interested in reading it. Her original story was published in 1932 and republished as part of an anthology — Reader’s Digest How to Get the Most Our of Life.
I didn’t really think this story would teach me as much about life as some of the others in the anthology initially. How could I relate to a story of someone who is blind? As I started to read the first lines my heart was gripped. Helen began to describe the things she would do if she had three days of sight (start at paragraph 7). Just three days to lift the veil of darkness she has been living under all her life.
It was such a good reminder that I have forgotten how precious the physical senses are because I am so wrapped up in day to day activities. I’m so focused on accomplishing the day’s tasks and planning for the future, I never stop just to recognize the sheer miracle of sight, hearing, touch and smell.
As a deaf and blind woman, Helen lived in a reality so different than mine. Though she went on to accomplish great things, including being the first deaf-blind woman to graduate from college (with honors no less), becoming a published author and an international advocate for human rights — she could not see the most basic things you and I take for granted. This was so clear to me when she described wanting to see the faces of those she loved. She writes:
“I should want to see the people whose kindness and companionship have made my life worth living. I do not know what it is to see into the heart of a friend that through that “window of the soul” the eye. I can only “see” through my fingertips the outline of a face.”
Think about that for a moment. Hellen Keller was never able to look upon the faces her mother or father or brother. She was never able to see her friends. She couldn’t see her prolific teacher Anne Sullivan. Yet she knew their inner beauty well. She asks:
“Can you describe accurately the faces of five good friends?”
No, I can’t. That’s how deep I am in the privilege of sight. I look at my daughter’s round chubby cheeks every day, and tell her how much I love her. Her little almond eyes look back at me with such intensity of life. I simply cannot imagine not being able to have that mental picture every day. I have never once thought of having to describe it with only words or how crushing it would be to not have it. Yet I know that our love is not based in sight but in the daily happenings of life that flow between us unseen. When I am able to value both sight and the unseen together, I begin to understand more deeply the true meaning of life.
“The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched — they must be felt with the heart.”
I know I will reread this story again. If for nothing else than as a reminder that each day with all of it’s joys, sorrows, highs and lows is a real gift. When I start to focus too much on the past or future, this story is a reminder that the present with all its sights, sounds, smells and touches is something to be cherished.
