One Sunday Morning I woke up feeling a bit ill, but since I was serving at my church that morning, I really thought I needed to be there. I called a friend, who said he would be prepared to substitute for me if necessary, and I immediately felt buoyed by his cheerful support. I was able to get to church and perform my role for the service, but as soon as it ended I felt overwhelmed by symptoms of the flu.
I was supposed to work that afternoon—covering a talk for the magazine I was working for—and I had just an hour before I needed to catch a train from the suburbs into Boston for this assignment. I spent a few minutes wondering if I was well enough to go. But it occurred to me that I really wanted to attend this presentation, not only because it was my job, but because I thought it would be fun. An artist was going to discuss a mural she'd painted called "Notable Women of Boston," and my Church's founder, Mary Baker Eddy, was one of its nine subjects.
My friend offered to go to the talk with me. When we arrived at the train station in Boston, I was still feeling very ill. At one point I had to lie down on the floor of a stall in the ladies' room in the train station.
