MOST OF MY LIFE I had a small mole on my face. I never thought of it as much more than a small, pale bump that I would always have. Then, a little over a year ago, it darkened and grew out from the side of my face to such an extent that I couldn't shave over it. Knowing the general medical theory about moles—that when a mole begins to grow and change color, it's considered dangerous and likely cancerous—I became fearful. Now it had my full attention.
Then one day my sister-in-law, who is not a Christian Scientist, told me that her father had just had surgery for the removal of a mole on his face and had also had a skin graft to replace the skin removed during the surgery. The very next day I received a call from my younger brother, also not a Christian Scientist. He expressed alarm about the growth and suggested I do something about it. He said his boss had had a similar growth removed from his face and how lucky his boss was that he had it taken care of early.
I thanked my brother for his concern and told him I was dealing with the condition through Christian Science treatment. Nevertheless, when I got off the phone, I was overcome with fear. The mole had been growing for some ten days, and now others noticed it, too. My thought raced fearfully ahead to the conclusion that I would have to have surgery to remove the mole and that the surgery couldn't wait any longer. I had five months left of my three-year term as First Reader in my Christian Science branch church. I felt I should resign if I decided to have medical treatment for this condition (although I felt sure no one would tell me to). Nevertheless, I couldn't believe I had gotten so close to the end of my term just to have to walk away from completing it.
