For a long time I have wanted to express through our periodicals my gratitude to God for Christian Science. On many an occasion when I have been in the depths of despair, with no human hand to help, a testimony from the Journal or the Christian Science Sentinel has given me courage and renewed faith to press on.
About 1928 a mental condition in my home was causing so much sorrow that I began to wonder if God was Love. This disturbed, doubtful thinking was wrecking my health, and as we were also experiencing financial lack, the situation seemed unbearable. I began having attacks of quinsy. My throat had to be lanced, and then it was a long time before I completely recovered. After one of these attacks a friend, seeing my great need, told me about Christian Science. I was overjoyed, but very doubtful that it could ever heal quinsy. This friend gave my name to the literature distribution committee of her church, and I began receiving the periodicals. I was grateful for this literature, and a loving worker on this committee visited me. I devoured the literature, many times reading all night, but still doubting. It seemed too good to be true. After six months, not knowing that I could have the free literature longer, I borrowed the money for my first subscription. I am most grateful to say it has never been necessary to borrow money again.
I had been reading but a short time when our little son, who had been having terrible attacks of croup almost every week, was seized with one of these attacks. My husband was away, it was 2 a.m., and I was alone. I knew the time had come when I must prove whether what I was reading was true. It seemed as if the child would choke to death, and with tears pouring down my cheeks and in great fear I praced him on the bed, picked up my Bible, and tried to read the ninety-first Psalm. When I came to the third verse, "Surely he shall deliver thee from . . . the noisome pestilence," I stopped and cried aloud, "Dear God, please show me if Christian Science is true; this verse says You will deliver, and surely croup is a 'noisome pestilence.'" The child gave a terrible struggle and then became so quiet that I thought he had passed on, and I was afraid to listen to him breathe. Finally I went to him, and he was sleeping peacefully. He has never had another attack of croup.
