“I remember the morning that I first asked the meaning of the word, “love.” This was before I knew many words. I had found a few early violets in the garden and brought them to my teacher. She tried to kiss me: but at that time I did not like to have anyone kiss me except my mother. Miss Sullivan put her arm gently around me and spelled into my hand, “I love Helen.” “What is love?” I asked. She drew me closer to her and said, “It is here,” pointing to my heart, whose beats I was conscious of for the first time.”