When Christian Science came to our home a year ago, we had sickness and misery of almost every kind. My husband had been sick for nine years. He had the advice and medicine of the best doctors in our city, and they sent him to different climates and medicinal springs, with only temporary relief. Each doctor had a new disease to fasten on his mind until he had so many different ailments, that they concluded nothing more could be done for him.
Being Roman Catholics, clinging to the faith firm and true, believing it the one Church, and that any other religious teaching was of the world and not of God, we spurned Christian Science, although advised to try it by friends who had been healed. The clouds seemed dark, hope was gone, money gone, and nothing to look forward to but darkness and despair. During all this time we had been faithfully fulfilling our religious duties, receiving the sacraments, having masses said, making novenas, going to church daily to pray for health, and making many sacrifices that are said in that faith to help the sick.
We tried to accept our cross with patience—believing it to be God's will. Still I thought it a little harder than I deserved, for I had been a great church worker, had tried to fulfil God's command to feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, and bind up the broken-hearted. As these thoughts came to me, I thought I was getting poor reward, and came to the conclusion that God did not know church work, especially fairs, socials, and oyster suppers. As I was in this mystified condition of thought, my husband came from town—scarcely able to walk. After sitting down a while, he said, "I believe I will try Christian Science. I have tried everything else, I don't suppose it will do me any good, but it is the last hope."
