My parents took up the study of Christian Science during my infancy, and so I attended the Christian Science Sunday School. Before leaving Sunday School I became a member of The Mother Church and six months later joined a branch church. Still later came class instruction.
Some years ago a condition which I first noticed when it began to hamper my diving developed in my knees until they were both giving me pain day and night, so I decided to call a practitioner. While I was carrying some material weighing nearly one hundred pounds, one knee bent backward with a sharp crack.
Still standing, if somewhat uncertainly, with the material in my hand, I prayed fervently, and it became clear that God is I am. In a few moments the sharp pain was gone, and I was able to move. This instant partial victory so heartened me that I decided to persevere in my prayerful work alone.
Despite the encouragement I experienced from many successful solutions of minor problems through the application of divine Science, the larger problem had reached the point where I was considering a change to less active work. When our older daughter was married, her nine-year-old sister remarked, "If I want Dad to walk me down the aisle, I'd better get married pretty soon."
The physical difficulty was called arthritis; but I came to see that as well as seeking the physical healing I must seek a healing of short temper. My explosiveness was an accepted family fact. This realization gave me a new direction in which to work, but there did not seem to be any positive progress.
I accepted an appointment to usher in church. Misgivings assailed me at the first Wednesday evening testimony meeting since my assignment was down in the front of the church. The next twenty minutes of standing cheerfully erect caused me acute discomfort. It seemed fraudulent to stand there smiling while on the verge of tears, but I found myself being grateful for healings I knew had been experienced by the various members of the congregation who were coming in. However, I was never so grateful to see the First Reader appear on the platform!
The following Wednesday the head usher asked me if I would share with the ushers the secret of my easy, gracious, welcoming manner. I had nothing to say. Mulling over the contradictory aspects of my experience the previous week, I realized that each member as he came in was seeing only the perfect reflection, and I had been aching only in my own thinking—in my own imperfect, hellish concept. This marked the beginning of progress.
Temper does not yield in a moment. The habit of trying to hide my limping had to be overcome. Joyfully wiser, I looked back amazed at the thought and effort I had expended in trying to hide something that I was trying to prove wasn't there. Gratitude welled up at my increasing freedom of movement.
June found me with a pack on my back among my friends at a high mountain lake. But temper is tough, and the morning we were to descend found me flaring up at everyone. Four uncomfortable miles seemed to undo everything, and error seemed about to triumph again. On the four-hour ride out of the mountains, I worked diligently to maintain the truth of three months of improvement. The morning after the hike I was free physically and almost free temperamentally.
In August, while I was coaching a novice in diving, the youngster said, "Why don't you show me how to do it yourself?"
I looked at my wife, and she smiled confidently and added, "Why not?"
I stepped on the diving board and dived with complete freedom. The next Wednesday evening I testified to the healing I had received.
The greatest moment of gratitude came three years later. Two friends who are not Scientists were talking, and one said to me: "So-and-so was just here, and he was limping—in bad shape. He reminded us how you were limping even worse a while back. Then here you come in bouncing like a rubber ball. What did you do? Maybe he could try it."
My happy reply was, "Tell him to try Christian Science."
Reseda, California
