When my first child was a toddler we lived with my mother-in-law. One day as he was running to his sand tub in the garden, he tripped and fell on the rim of the tub, splitting his lip in half. When I saw what had happened, I gathered him up in my arms and held a handkerchief to his lip. My mother-in-law rang a Christian Science practitioner for me. (I felt sure that the practitioner would know how to pray to God for healing, whereas I did not know what to do, being a very new student of Science.) As my mother-in-law talked with her, right before my eyes the child's lip knitted together. And it never gave him any more trouble.
When this boy was in kindergarten, one day on the way to school, he complained to me of not feeling well. When we arrived at school, I mentioned this to the schoolmistress. She was convinced he had measles because nearly all the children were at home with it. As it was my shopping morning and I was planning to give a lift to a practitioner I knew, I took the child with me on the way to get her, fully certain she would heal him then and there. As soon as the practitioner was settled in the car, I asked her if she would help us. She agreed to and while she was praying, I asked God to keep me (or rather, a false sense of motherhood) "out of the way," so that the healing would not be hindered by fear or any other erroneous thought. The healing came in that instant.
Once when my second child was a toddler, he complained of an earache. We sat on the sofa so that I could read him an article specially written for children from an issue of the Christian Science Sentinel. But before I read it to him, I affirmed to myself that the spiritual truth voiced in the article carried the power to heal and thanked God sincerely for this power. My son was freed during the reading, and the healing proved permanent.
