I have in Sunday school a class of twenty-five, between the ages of four and thirteen years. Some of the mothers have asked me to allow them to come and sit in class with their little ones. Since they have done this, more than one has remarked, "why they are our teachers"; "and, verily, a little child shall lead them." In many instances, these little ones heal instantly. Asking for an explanation of their method, the reply invariably is: "Why, God is Science." "There is no sickness in God or Science." They accept the teaching with the same simple, childlike faith that older ones will, when they are wholly emptied of the conceit of human knowledge. Then will be understood the saying of Jesus, "Except ye become as this little child, ye cannot enter the kingdom of heaven."
We cannot discover and be in relation with the fountain of Infinite Love and at the same time hold as real the old, material methods of our former education. I asked a little boy of seven or eight years why he could heal so much more easily or quickly than his mother; he replied: "Because she is so full of nothing!" The love children have for Science and Health is worthy of notice. A little one of three years and a half came running into the dining-room while we were at breakfast: "Come, come quick, papa all blede, treat him, Gunny!" I followed his directions and looking around at him a moment afterwards saw he was tugging along a copy of Science and Health. "Papa just look at Mrs. Eddy's picture, and you will be better," exclaimed the little one. Papa looked as the little one desired him, when the child took the book, and turned to the reading and said, "Papa, you just read a little and you feel better; papa, you read Science and Health every day and you never feel sick." However busy this little one may be at play, if we take Science and Health and commence reading aloud—the first we notice he has left his play and is standing in rapt attention looking up in our face and listening as though his ear had caught a strain of delicious music.
One day he had hurt his fingers, and at the same time had some other trouble which seemed greater: "Gunny, you treat me. I cure this," holding up his fingers to show me what he undertook for himself. He next brought me Science and Health to read; then he lay down beside me and listened as attentively as usual. Soon he dropped off to sleep, and when he woke, his face was radiant; running to me he said: "I all right!" and so he was.
