Early in my study of Christian Science I learned the wisdom of not being impressed with afflictive material conditions. In rearing three children, I found when I refused to focus attention on cuts, bruises, or other difficulties, and declared the truth of man's spiritual identity, healings came quickly.
One of the children caught her finger in the door of a car. The door had to be opened to release it. I carried her into the house, and at no time did we look at the finger. I prayed, declaring her spiritual identity, free from mishap, and never touched by matter. She quieted down quickly. Two of the points that contributed to her healing, I remember most clearly, were that we had just been on an errand as a kindness for a neighbor, and I knew that the little girl couldn't suffer from doing an act of kindness; also, her willing obedience in not looking at the finger. About midnight when I went to the children's bedroom to tuck them in once more, my glance fell on the finger. There was nothing left of the injury but a faint red line, and by morning that had disappeared.
On another occasion a neighbor across the road frantically phoned and asked me to call the fire department. She said her summer kitchen (separate from her house) was on fire. I did call the fire department. Then, instead of going to a window to see what the fire was doing, I stood still and declared that fire was nothing but the fury of mortal mind—a supposed power apart from God—and therefore had no power to destroy. I recalled what Mrs. Eddy says in Science and Health (p. 293): "There is no vapid fury of mortal mind—expressed in earthquake, wind, wave, lightning, fire, bestial ferocity—and this so-called mind is self-destroyed." I don't know how long I stood there, but about the time I heard the siren of the fire engine at the top of the hill, a mile away, the doorbell rang. It was the neighbor, with the most amazed look on her face. She said, "I can't understand it—the fire went out!" Then she turned and went out to the road to tell the firemen that their services would not be needed. Later that afternoon she came over to tell me that when she had lighted her big oil cooking stove, oil that had been leaking onto the floor caught fire; and when she ran to her house to phone, the flame had crossed the room and had started up the wall. When she went back out to the kitchen, the flames were dying out as though water had been poured on them. Three times she said, "The fire just went out!"
Shortly after having class instruction, I had a very precious insight that seemed to me to be looking out from Mind, not up to Mind.
One afternoon, when the youngest daughter was four years old, I was putting her to bed for her nap. She held out her hands covered with warts and said, "Mama, will you pray for these warts to go away?" At first an overwhelming responsibility swept over me, and I thought, "Oh, what if I should disappoint this little one!" But then the angel message came—it seemed almost out loud—"Humble the human and let the Christ-idea shine forth!" I put her to bed and sat down on the sofa to pray.
I had just recently heard a lecture based on Mrs. Eddy's article "The Way" in Miscellaneous Writings (pp. 355-359), where she takes up the three stages of mental growth: self-knowledge, humility, and love. I acknowledged that the little girl and I were perfect spiritual ideas, children of the one Father. Humbling the human sense of things, I recognized true identity and the all-encompassing love of our heavenly Father. I don't recall what else came, but I do recall knowing that nothing could be added to the infinite. With that, the whole subject left me. Three days later, as I was washing the little girl's hands, I saw that they were entirely free of blemish.
An interesting sequel to this healing was that the oldest girl came to me about two weeks later and complained that a wart on the end of her finger bothered her when she played the piano. I don't recall just what I said to her, but I do know that I took my stand and recognized that the truths that had been established would bless her too. And I heard no more of that complaint. The child was healed.
At one time I was suffering from a painful stiff neck and had been out of school for several days. Unable to sleep night or day, I was sitting in the dark at three thirty in the morning. It came to me that by taking my stand for Christian Science, and refusing help from any other means, I was serving the Cause of Christian Science—even if no one else ever knew of the healing, which I knew had to come. This angel message gave me such joy that I was able to go to bed and to sleep. The next morning I was in my place teaching in the Christian Science Sunday School, and by Monday I was completely free.
There was a drastic financial cutback in the school system where I was teaching, and I was one of those asked to resign—perhaps because I was in a high salary bracket. I was not of retirement age, nor had I taught long enough to be eligible for a pension. I asked for support from a Christian Science practitioner and held to these words (Ex. 14:13): "Stand still, and see the salvation of the Lord." I was able to stay quite free of anxiety. There was a very unexpected adjustment in my department, and I went on teaching for several years, until I had established my pension eligibility and chose to retire, though it was not compulsory that I do so.
Recently, I was sailing in a small flattie with two others, in the middle of a large lake. A huge hornet flew down my back inside my life jacket and stung me. The pain was intense. However, I was able to just quietly pray. I knew that as an expression of God I was intact, free from attack. I held to this truth and others learned from my daily study of Science and Health and other writings by Mrs. Eddy. By the time we reached shore, all pain was gone, and that was the end of the incident.
I am so grateful for the pure, clear teaching received in Christian Science class instruction, and for every healing event that has taught me to go forward to serve better the Cause of Christian Science.
Seattle, Washington
