There once was a girl named Hanna.
She was intelligent, beautiful, and kind.
She did many things for others. Fed the hungry,
gave money to the poor, and cared for the sick.
One day she came across a very sick girl.
"Can you help me?" The sick girl had asked.
Hanna, being the kind girl she is, said "Yes."
So she went out and brought back bread, medicine,
and a warm glass of milk. She gave it to the
sick girl in hopes it might help her.
She seemed to be getting better, so Hanna was delited.
She cared for her for days more until she
believed she was cured of her illness.
The sick girl was no longer coughing, and no longer
in pain. Hanna left her to feed, give, and heal others.
But the sick girl wasn't healed.
She called out to Hanna one day, but Hanna never came.
Hanna was out, helping other people in need.
It seemed the sick girl was dying, but Hanna didn't know.
Hanna had believe the sick girl was cured, so she didn't
come back to give her more medicine, more bread, or more milk.
The sick girls name was Olivia. And she was drowing weaker
and weaker each day. Furious, she asked someone to find
Hanna and bring her to her aid. But there wasn't going
to be any healing happening when she got to her.
Hanna finally made it to her and Olivia cursed her when she did.
Hanna was shocked at the words Olivia was chanting, but the
chanting soon dyed down, though Hanna could still see her lips
moving. She also noticed that all of the noise had dyed down.
Not just Olivia's chants. She couldn't hear a thing.
She got home, and wrote down what had happened. But
nobody cared. She seeked for help, but nobody wanted to help
her. She was different now. One day she was fed up with everyone
ignoring her. She was having to skip meals due to others pushing
her aside and acting like she was invisible. Nobody cared about her.
Not even the people she had helped in the past. Not even her own
family. But one day, her father noticed trails of marks on the ground.
The marks were words of ink. He followed the trails that led
backwards to his daughter's bedroom. Hanna's room. She had been
sobbing. The door was slightly opened and she was writing in ink
on the bottom of her feet. He was barely able to make out the words,
but from what he saw, they were pained. The only full line he could
see said, "They can't seem to hear me anymore. The don't seem to care.
Maybe they will see my feelings on the ground and finally understand
how I feel." He'd realized she was writing her feelings on her feet,
hoping someone would see them. Read them. He felt sorry for her,
but when he told the rest of the family and village, they just laughed.
They told him "She's worthless now", but he hadn't believed that.
Not anymore. So one day he deciced to learn how to talk to her
with his hands. Using sign language, because she couldn't hear him.
But when he got to her room, what he found left him speechless.
She was dead in. The room was cleaned out, the only thing left
was a note. He read through it over and over, tears streaming
down his face. But what really caught his eye was the last line she'd
wrote. "I'll never understand how my hearing affected others'."
I'll never understand how my hearing affected others'.