In June, 1903, it was for the first time my privilege and pleasure to be present at the Wednesday evening service of The Mother Church in Boston. The understanding of God, as taught in Christian Science, has brought me many blessings, for any one of which I would owe it endless homage. Only the hopelessness and helplessness of the conditions from which I have been delivered can be the measure of my gratitude. To relate my physical and mental condition at the time I turned to Christian Science for help, seems to me very much like telling a bad dream. I tell this one, however, hoping to show that it is possible, here and now, to get awake, and to escape from physical and mental suffering. I have come out of the dream of disease, discord, and despair, into the consciousness of health, harmony, and happiness.
I had never known what it was to be well since I was twelve years old. Every month of my life I had suffered agonizing pain. When a girl I was taken to physicians in Chicago, and received the best treatment known to the profession at that time. Later, surgery was resorted to, but all to no avail. Medicine, treatment, and operation all failed to give any relief. The suffering" only increased with years, and I looked only to time to release me. I lived under the shadow of pain either the memory of past pain or the dread of future pain seemed an abiding presence. This constantly recurrent condition induced other diseases, and added years only brought added suffering. The nervousness and depression incident to such diseases can only be appreciated by those who have experienced them. I always felt so handicapped in everything I wanted to do. I had the benefit of the best-known physicians and surgeons; I spent many months in a private hospital in Chicago; I underwent three surgical operations. For two years I was never free from pain, waking or sleeping. I think I had not slept more than two hours out of the twenty-four for six months, and then only after taking almost every soporific known to mankind. The only thing left to offer me was another more serious operation, the last resort in such cases. My weak and exhausted condition made such an undertaking impossible at the time, and I went home "for the change," and "to be built up," so that I might return for this operation. I had the highest regard for my physician, and the utmost confidence in his ability. He gave me his best, and no one could have received more kind and considerate treatment. I have always felt that I had the best that mortal man could give,—but it failed. After it,all my longing was to die, that I might escape from the pain which never left me for one moment.
I not only had an aching body, but an aching heart. My life seemed one continuous discord. For years I carried a heavy heart. The conditions which made life seem so discordant seemed to me hopeless. I saw no way out of it but in ceasing to live. I realized that my own temperament and disposition were largely responsible for my unhappiness, and where was there a hope for changing one's temperament any more than changing the color of one's eyes? I had read some "mental culture" literature, had even learned some formulae, but for me, I might as well have stood out in the rain and "affirmed" that I was not getting wet. I believed in God. I was a member of an orthodox church. I had prayed to the best of my understanding for years. I prayed that certain conditions might be changed, and other ones brought about. I prayed for patience and courage to endure the suffering which seemed my inevitable lot. My prayers were never answered my heart grew heavier, my sufferings greater, and my endurance less. I gave up praying. I believed that God was, but He did not seem available to me.
