One time my brother and I were playing on the bed, and he pushed me off. My arm hit the ground first and it hurt really bad. I started crying. My mom was on the telephone, but she came over and picked me up and put me on the bed. Then she got off the phone and started to pray. She talked to me about God and how I was God's perfect child and could not fall from His hands.
My arm still hurt, so we called a Christian Science practitioner. The practitioner came over. We talked about God and His love for me. After lunch my mom thought we should put my arm in a sling, a bandanna, but I didn't want to!
After the practitioner came over I felt better about praying for myself. This happened at Christmastime, and I was sad and mad because I couldn't play. I was sort of mad at my brother Ryan, too, but I knew he didn't mean to hurt me.
