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Most of us take life for granted. We know that one day we must die, but usually we picture that day as far in the future. The days stretch out in an endless vista, so we go about our petty tasks, hardly aware of our listless attitude toward life. The same lethargy characterizes the use of all our faculties and senses. Only the deaf appreciate hearing, only the blind realize the manifold blessings that lie in sight. I have often thought it would be a blessing if each human being were stricken blind and deaf for a few days at some time during his early adult life. Darkness would make him more appreciative of sight; silence would teach him the joys of sound. When walking the woods, I, who cannot see, find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch. I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver birch, or the rough, shaggy bark of a pine. In the spring I touch the branches of trees hopefully in search of a bud the first sign of awakening Nature after her winters sleep. I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower, and discover its remarkable convolutions; | 
