His graphic description of these first wonderful steps is quoted—with due credit to Doctor Howe—in Dickens’ American Notes.
Since Laura’s was the first case of the sort in the world, it was necessary for my father to devise his own methods. A special teacher was employed for her, several devoted women filling this post in turn.
My father always superintended her education, and recorded every step—telling us how he taught her the use of prepositions, adjectives and verbs.
An excellent speller herself, in her later years she taught the little blind children how to spell. Laura Bridgman had the pride of intellect, in spite of her infirmities, and was inclined to look down upon people of inferior mind or education. The lessons in conduct which the ordinary child learns from the example of those around him Laura had to learn from books or from conversation with her teacher. Moral, ethical, and later spiritual problems aroused her deep interest. Her writings—and they are many—show a soul as white and innocent as that of a little child.
Laura was well trained in the domestic arts. She was an exquisite needlewoman, her darning being a “poem in linen.” She could also knit and crochet extremely well, making the fine beaded purses then in fashion. Indeed, the sale of her handiwork contributed to her own support. She kept her room in beautiful order, dusting the most delicate objects without injury to them. One of Laura’s amusements was to arrange my mother’s bureau drawers. The latter disliked having any one meddle with her things, but Laura’s touch was so delicate that she was allowed thus to officiate as “mistress of the wardrobe.”
Best of all, she enjoyed life in spite of her many deprivations, making the most of the little pleasures that came to her. The following is one of her “poems”:
LIGHT AND DARKNESS
BY
Laura Bridgman
Light represents day.