A beautiful gold locket I often wear has a photograph of a smiling young couple with their little two-year-old son— my mother and dad and their first child. These smiles soon turned to tears, however, for the little one suddenly became very ill, and even though the very best medical help was sought, he died of pneumonia. Then a doctor told my mother she would never be able to have more children because of her poor physical condition. The members of the church she then belonged to begged her to try to be strong and accept that these things were the will of God. My dad had to leave almost immediately for Army duty in Europe, and Mother was left alone.
She was not a weak person; maybe it was because of strong feelings, but whatever the cause, she rebelled against her church's teachings and the medical prognosis. Yet in despair, she suffered a nervous breakdown. She had no will to live, and my dad was brought home on emergency leave because she was expected to die.
Relatives and friends had gathered to say farewell to their beloved one. It was at this point that one of the relatives told my dad about a religion—Christian Science—that healed through prayer. When asked if he would like to borrow Science and Health, he accepted. He took the book and went to my mother's bedside, where he sat down and began to read aloud to her still form. Many years later my mother said it was as though he were "turning the pages of her heart," for this book told of the loving God she had always felt so close to.
