One year ago last July, at the close of our school year (I have been a teacher in the public schools of Omaha, Neb., for the past ten years), I felt friendless and alone. My home was all broken up. My husband had such a serious kidney and lung trouble, that he deemed it advisable to change climate if he was ever to recover his health at all. He took our oldest son with him and started for north-western Canada to try ranch life. I did not expect to see him again alive. My son gave up his studies in the high school to accompany his father.
I had been a great sufferer myself for about fifteen years with a disease five prominent physicians had pronounced incurable. I suffered intensely at times, and my physician without my knowledge left a remedy with the principal of the school, so that she could at least try to alleviate my suffering; but during 1895 I seemed to get so much worse, and to have those times of suffering so frequently, that I felt I could not teach longer unless I could be healed. This was my only way of making a living for myself and young son who remained with me. I had many other troubles, and all combined seemed to me more than I could bear. If it had not been for my family I would have been glad to die and thus, as I thought, be free. I felt that God was unjust to inflict so much upon me. Oh how glad I am to know that God (Good) had nothing to do with the error which seemed to enslave me!
During this dark time, I received a letter from my mother who was living in Oakland, Cal., near my sister, who is a Scientist. She urged me to come and make them all a visit. It was full of love, and seemed like one ray of light penetrating the darkness. I so longed to see my dear, patient mother, whom I had not seen for over six years. I felt that there was one place of peace and rest for me.
