A Number of years ago, when about the age of eleven months, our little daughter fell from the porch upon her right shoulder and arm. We could find not so much as a bruise, and so thought no more about it that evening, but when dressing her in the morning I noticed that if her arm were moved it seemed to cause her great pain. This led us to believe that something was wrong and immediately we took her to a physician. He examined the arm and shoulder, but said he could find nothing out of the way. Feeling then that all was well I went home much relieved, but the little one rapidly grew worse. I again took her to the same physician and he made a second examination but said he could find no broken bones, and thought it must be a bruise or strain of the muscles. He bandaged the arm and gave me some liniment to apply. The directions were carefully followed but the suffering continued. I was advised to go to a physician who was very successful in surgery, and, about three weeks after the fall I did so. He made an examination and said there had been a bone broken; also that the little one would have to go through the painful operation of re-setting it, as it had begun by this time to grow together. The work was done and the little arm bandaged to the side to remain at least six weeks. I occasionally took her to have the bandages adjusted. At the end of this time they were removed, the doctor telling me he was sure everything would be all right and she would use the arm as the shoulder gained strength. So hopeful, yet fearful, I waited until the days went into months, but no use of the arm. I would go to the doctor to be assured each time that it would soon be all right. About four months passed in this way when one morning I discovered a lump under the arm, perhaps the size of a walnut. I took her to the physician and he pronounced it an abscess, saying it would have to be lanced when it reached a proper condition. In a few days it was operated upon, the discharge being very great. The doctor told me to come in occasionally, as it would have to be kept open so that the discharge would all come away, and so the time went by in this way for about two months more, when a second abscess appeared below the first one; this was treated in the same way. We, of course, were filled with fear and anxiety as we saw each day bring a more despairing look to the little face, the light fading from the eyes that had been so happy, and the playthings one by one ceasing to give any pleasure. Bottle after bottle of medicine was given, until the little one seemed to look upon it as part of her existence, taking it without any resistance. Much of it was so strong that many times I would hold it in my hands and wish I might not have to give it. A year had passed; the face had become without a tint of flesh color, the doctor saying the blood had all turned to water. We consulted another physician. He thought a change would be good, so we decided to go to San Francisco. On arriving there I was advised to see a physician who at that time stood very high in the ranks of his profession. He examined the child but seemed puzzled; said I should watch closely in washing and dressing the abscess,—which I did several times a day,—and perhaps there might a piece of bone work out. This, however, never occurred, to my knowledge. Medicines were changed, also food, of which she ate very little, and all this time she made no use of the arm. Shortly after I came to San Francisco the arm began to swell from the elbow to the shoulder, each day changing in color, showing it was gathering underneath. It became so swollen that the little dress sleeves could not be drawn over it and we could see the flesh would not long hold together. It broke on the top of the arm and the suffering was very great. There seemed to be no rest night or day. In the year and a half we did not know what it was to have one night's rest. As things seemed to be growing worse instead of better, I became very anxious to be at home with my husband, who was in Riverside. Before going I talked with the doctor and I at once saw what was in his mind—that in order to save the life the arm would have to be sacrificed, and even then with very little hope. When I reached home and my husband saw the constant suffering of the little one, his fear, as well as my own, was very great. While in doubt as to the course we should pursue, some one said to my husband, "Why don't you try Christian Science?" She said, "I don't know much about it, but I understand they don't give any medicine." But my husband said, "O, I could not have any faith in anything of that kind! No medicine! why what good could be done?" not realizing that we had then been using medicine of every kind for a year and a half and the trouble growing worse every day. However, the thought took some root. When my husband came home he told me of the conversation he had had with his friend. But I, too, doubted that anything could be accomplished where no material means were employed, so the question was dropped and nothing further said that day, but the following day we again talked it over and decided to try it, thinking it could do no harm if it did no good, and I must say the thought of giving no medicine even for a day seemed a relief. Without further delay I called upon the healer, Mrs. D. Of course I had my story to tell, which was quite a lengthy one, at the same time starting to remove the little dress and bandages, which I, of course, thought necessary. I recollect my surprise and disappointment when the healer said to me, "I do not care to look at the baby's arm," and how I tried to persuade her to do so, telling her I was sure she could do so much more for her; but she remained firm, explaining in a Christian Science way why she did not want to see it, satisfying me in this way, and giving me such beautiful assurance that the baby would be well; and also when I told her that we had not slept in months, she said, "You will sleep to-night, I know." I remember my surprise on hearing her say she knew the baby would be better and we would rest.
The physician would say, "I hope you will rest to-night," but no one had said, "I know you will." She spoke with such authority that we could not help but be encouraged and strengthened. How much happier I went home, telling my husband all that had been said, for it was all quite new to us. We did rest—such rest as had not been ours for many weary months. Afterwards we were led to see it was the rest promised by the Master when he said, "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."
Slowly but surely the color began to come to the little, sad face, and the eyes to brighten; in a word, we were all being changed, although we realized but little the cause. The healing, though it might be called slow, was perfect. I think it was about seven months before we could say, "She is well."
