Just after my class study a child, attempting to follow me upstairs, fell, struck his lip cutting it badly. His mother, grandmother, and sister, set about in the usual way to take care of him, but had only bathed the wound with water assuring themselves that it was cut clear through, when I reached the spot; his mother handed him over to me; he ceased crying at once, soon fell asleep in my arms, and was healed with the one treatment.
My sister wrote me for help from inflammatory rheumatism. As I read her letter I declared the utter unreality of the claim, and subsequently learned that at that very hour she got up, took off certain bandages and cotton wrappings from her feet, put on her shoes, and at once went about her household duties well. I also learned that the doctors had made a law for her (and that her mother had been fearfully counting the time) that in seven years she would have a second attack. It was just seven years since she had suffered terribly for months with the same belief.
A baby boy was said to be ruptured. The doctors had taken measurements to make him a truss; I told his mother if she would stop that arrangement and not let the doctors touch him, I would treat him. In a week she wrote me that he was well and thriving.—
