One evening in the spring of 1918, when twelve years of age, I was running at full speed on the top of a row of bricks, when one of the bricks slipped and I fell on the right side of my face, with all my weight, on a fence of small sticks. One of the sticks pierced my face just where the nostril meets the cheek. I immediately began treating myself with the understanding I had of Christian Science; but as the blood was flowing freely, I decided to notify my father. He immediately gave me treatment, first audibly and then silently. Then he washed the wound with water; and as there did not appear to be any foreign substance in the wound, he put on some clean gauze. Through the night I lost the possibility of breathing through the nostrils. My father kept on treating me; and as no inflammation appeared, he felt sure no wood was left in the wound. However, after two years had elapsed my breath began to have a disagreeable odor; but as no physical pain was ever felt by me, my father did not deem it necessary to have the help of a practitioner.
In January, 1923, I felt an itching inside my right nostril. Unable to decide whether the object was wood or bone, my father advised me to seek help from a practitioner. After several weeks of treatment my father and I called on our town surgeon, who inquired in a kind way what good thing he could do for us. My father said we had noticed there was a movable piece of wood or bone in my nostril, which caused a delay in my breathing and an unpleasant odor. The surgeon took a pair of pincers, and without pain to me removed a long piece of wood. He was much astonished that I had not had blood poisoning. Since the extraction there has never been any pain or odor. I have been perfectly healed.
For this and many other demonstrations that our family have enjoyed since 1906, we earnestly thank God, and are grateful that through the teachings of Mrs. Eddy we can use the power of Truth at an instant's notice. We are also grateful to Mrs. Eddy for her labor of love for humanity. I am now seventeen years of age, and happy to say that I have three more years of Sunday school.— Harrison, N. Y.
