Helen Adams Keller：The Story of My Life (16)

海倫‧凱勒 著  東年 譯

CHAPTER V

我想起在我心靈迅速甦醒後，發生在1887年夏天中的許多事情。整個夏天，我什麼也不做，只用我雙手探究任何我碰觸的對象，同時學習它們的名字；我探究的事物越多，包括學習它們的名稱和用法，就會有更加的喜悅和自信促使我想親近其他我還沒遇到的更多事物。 

雛菊和金鳳花開的時候，蘇利文小姐牽著我的手橫過男人正在播種的田野，去到田納西河的河岸。在那裡，坐在溫暖的草地上，我第一次學到自然的慈善面。我學到太陽和雨使全部的樹從土裡長出，這使景象令人愉快，使食糧產生，讓鳥兒築巢、生活和到處興旺，讓松鼠、鹿、獅子以及所有的其他生物獲得食物和庇護。隨著學習的增長，我越來越加喜歡我所存在的世界。在我開始學習數學計算或描述人間百態之前的一段日子裡，蘇利文小姐在充滿芳香的樹林中和我小妹手中的曲面和凹處，教會我分辨出每一片草葉的美妙。她將我最早期的思想和自然連結起來，而且讓我覺得鳥兒、花兒和我是一樣快樂的。 

可是，大約在這時候，我也經驗到而學得自然不是總是慈祥的。有一天，我和老師在外閒逛許久，正要回家…這天早上天氣很好，後來卻越變越暖和，直到我們正要轉頭回家時的酷熱。在回家的路上，我們有兩、三次停在路旁的樹下休息。我們最後一次的暫歇，是在我家近處一顆櫻桃樹下。那裡的樹蔭讓人很舒服，爬上樹也很容易，所以在老師的的幫助下我攀上枝幹的一個坦處坐著。樹上非常涼爽，所以蘇利文老師提議我們在那裡吃午餐；我向她保證自己會在她回家去取食物的時候，乖乖坐著。 

可是，意外的，我覺得樹蔭中正有什麼事發生。空氣中太陽的溫暖消失了；我知道天空暗下來，因為對我而言就是光線的所有溫度已經在大氣中消失一盡。地面上浮起一種氣味，我認得它總是領先在大雷雨前發生。一種無名的恐懼讓我提心吊膽，我覺得自己被從朋友和堅實的大地中割離，而完全的孤立無助；這種無名的、無限的黑暗緊緊抱住我。我希望老師趕快回來；但是，最迫切的事是，我想立刻爬下樹。 

在一陣詭異的寂靜之後，密密麻麻的樹葉響起一片喧嘩，而樹幹掀起一陣顫慄。我被迎面襲來的強風撞擊，即使拼上全力也無法緊緊抱住樹枝，差點從樹上跌落。樹搖擺到扭曲變形了，傾盆大雨夾帶折斷的細枝向我亂射。我在一陣狂烈的衝動中想跳下樹，但是恐懼立刻抓住我，讓我只在樹杈間捲曲身體任擺動的樹枝狂亂鞭打。我不時的感受到間歇性的震動和刺耳的聲響，那像是有什麼笨重的東西跌落在我附近撞擊，並且繼續滾動到我坐著的樹枝旁邊才停止；這種懸疑將我的憂慮刺激到最高點。正當我想著我和樹將倒在一塊，我的老師抓住我的手幫我爬下來。我緊緊的抱住她，感受到腳下再次接觸的大地，興奮的顫抖起來。我因此學到一個新的課題──自然會公然挑戰自己的子女，因此在它柔軟的撫摸下藏著危險的爪子。 

I RECALL many incidents of the summer of 1887 that followed my soul's sudden awakening. I did nothing but explore with my hands and learn the name of every object that I touched; and the more I handled things and learned their names and use s, the more joyous and confident grow my sense of kinship with the rest of the world. 

When the time of daisies and buttercups came Miss Sullivan took me by the hand across the fields, where men were preparing the earth for the seed, to the banks of the Tennessee River, and there, sitting on the warm grass, I had my first lessons in the beneficence of nature. I learned how the sun and the rain make to grow out of the ground every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food, how birds build their nests and live and thrive from land to land, how the squirrel, the deer, the lion and every other creature finds food and shelter. As my knowledge of things grew I felt more and more the delight of the world I was in. Long before I learned to do a sum in arithmetic or describe the shape of the earth, Miss Sullivan had taught me to find beauty in the fragrant woods, in every blade of grass, and in the curves and dimples of my baby sister's hand. She linked my earliest thoughts with nature, and made me feel that "birds and flowers and I were happy peers." 

But about this time I had an experience which taught me that nature is not always kind. One day my teacher and I were returning from a long ramble. The morning had been fine, but it was growing warm and sultry when at last we turned our faces homeward. Two or three times we stopped to rest under a tree by the wayside. Our last halt was was under a wild cherry tree a short distance from the house. The shade was grateful, and the tree was so easy to climb that with my teacher's assistance I was able to scramble to a seat in the branches. It was so cool up in the tree that Miss Sullivan proposed that we have our luncheon there. I promised to keep still while she went to the house to fetch it. 

Suddenly a change passed over the tree. All the sun's warmth left the air. I knew the sky was black, because all the heat, which meant light to me, had died out of the atmosphere. A strange odour came up from the earth. I knew it, it was the odour that always precedes a thunderstorm, and a nameless fear clutched at my heart. I felt absolutely alone, cut off from my friends and the firm earth. The immense, the unknown, enfolded me. I remained still and expectant; a chilling terror crept over me. I longed for my teacher's return; but above all things I wanted to get down from that tree. 

There was a moment of sinister silence, then a multitudinous stirring of the leaves. A shiver ran through the tree, and the wind sent forth a blast that would have knocked me off had I not clung to the branch with might and main. The tree swayed and strained. The small twigs snapped and fell about me in showers. A wild impulse to jump seized me, but terror held me fast. I crouched down in the fork of the tree. The branches lashed about me. I felt the intermittent jarring that came now and then, as if something heavy had fallen and the shock had traveled up till it reached the limb I sat on. It worked my suspense up to the highest point, and just as I was thinking the tree and I should fall together, my teacher seized my hand and helped me down. I clung to her, trembling with joy to feel the earth under my feet once more. I had learned a new lesson–that nature "wages open war against her children, and under softest touch hides treacherous claws."