One winter day I went with my little grandson to one of the parks of the city, where he joined fully a hundred boys and girls who were coasting. The coasting field was down the incline of a steep bank, out over at least a hundred yards of level ground, to a ten-foot terrace, at the bottom of which was an iron fence. At the brow of the terrace were several trees, and it was at these trees the coasters aimed to stop their sleds. The little boy had made several trips across the level space, and had always succeeded in stopping himself at the clump of trees. On the last run, however, his sled went over the terrace. My first impulse was to run to him; but, seating myself again, I tried to think and know the truth of Mrs. Eddy's statement in "Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures" (p. 424), "Accidents are unknown to God;" and again on the same page, "Under divine Providence there can be no accidents, since there is no room for imperfection in perfection." I tried to realize that as our lives are a reflection of the divine Life there can be no accidents in the lives of God's children, for He made them all in His image and likeness; and a prayer of thankfulness went up to God that this realization had been mine.
When I looked up the little fellow had reached the top of the terrace and was coming toward me. "I am all right, grandmother," he called, and smiled. I did not ask him if he had hit the fence. A few moments later we left the park and went home. Soon after our arrival a member of the household (not a Scientist) called to me: "Come here and look at the boy's head. He must have cut it in some way, for his hair on top is all matted with blood." After the child was asleep I continued my prayer of gratitude that by the scientific realization of the allness of God, gained through the teachings of our beloved Leader, Mary Baker Eddy, we have been given the opportunity to interpret aright the saying of Jesus, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that believeth on me, the works that I do shall he do also."
A few hours later, when I spoke of the occurrence of the afternoon to a companion, the question was asked, "Are you sure the cut did not need some stitches taken by a surgeon?" Before I could close the door of consciousness that lurking, insistent devil, fear, stood before me. What if there should have been some stitches taken by a surgeon? What if the wound would not heal? What if there had not been enough transparency for the all-active Mind to shine through? It was only after several moments of continued repeating of "What Our Leader Says," in "The First Church of Christ, Scientist, and Miscellany" (p. 210), that I was able to calm myself. In the morning when the boy's hair was brushed there was no sign of any bruise. The hair was in its usual soft and silky condition. We do know that, as we read in the gospel of Mark, "with men it is impossible, but not with God: for with God all things are possible."— Mountain Home, Idaho.
