the world i live in-海倫·凱勒自傳(英文版)

第2部分 (第5/7頁)

you　in　physical　terms　how　a　hand　feels；　you　would　be　no　wiser　for

my　account　than　a　blind　man　to　whom　you　describe　a　face　in　detail。

Remember　that　when　a　blind　man　recovers　his　sight；　he　does　not　recognize

the　monest　thing　that　has　been　familiar　to　his　touch；　the　dearest

face　intimate　to　his　fingers；　and　it　does　not　help　him　at　all　that

things　and　people　have　been　described　to　him　again　and　again。　So　you；

who　are　untrained　of　touch；　do　not　recognize　a　hand　by　the　grasp；　and

so；　too；　any　description　I　might　give　would　fail　to　make　you　acquainted

with　a　friendly　hand　which　my　fingers　have　often　folded　about；　and

which　my　affection　translates　to　my　memory。

I　cannot　describe　hands　under　any　class　or　type；　there　is　no　democracy

of　hands。　Some　hands　tell　me　that　they　do　everything　with　the　maximum　of

bustle　and　noise。　Other　hands　are　fidgety　and　unadvised；　with　nervous；

fussy　fingers　which　indicate　a　nature　sensitive　to　the　little　pricks　of

daily　life。　Sometimes　I　recognize　with　foreboding　the　kindly　but　stupid

hand　of　one　who　tells　with　many　words　news　that　is　no　news。　I　have　met　a

bishop　with　a　jocose　hand；　a　humourist　with　a　hand　of　leaden　gravity；　a

man　of　pretentious　valour　with　a　timorous　hand；　and　a　quiet；　apologetic

man　with　a　fist　of　iron。　When　I　was　a　little　girl　I　was　taken　to　see＇A＇

a　woman　who　was　blind　and　paralysed。　I　shall　never　forget　how　she　held

out　her　small；　trembling　hand　and　pressed　sympathy　into　mine。　My　eyes

fill　with　tears　as　I　think　of　her。　The　weariness；　pain；　darkness；　and

sweet　patience　were　all　to　be　felt　in　her　thin；　wasted；　groping；　loving

hand。

Few　people　who　do　not　know　me　wil