HARD TIMES: As a young rock musician in San Francisco, I had my tools—my electric guitar, acoustic guitar, and amp—but I wasn't getting enough work. I lived in a shared household, and I'd paid my share of that month's rent, but that left me with no food money. The others usually had little or no food in our fridge. Besides, out of mutual respect, we never invaded each other's supplies. And if I sold my "tools," I wouldn't have any chance of working.
I hadn't eaten for a couple of days. Fear, mingling with hunger, brought on a mild panic state. I'd been raised in Christian Science, but years had gone by without daily prayers or study. On this day, I felt led to call a local Christian Science practitioner, who agreed to see me. On that hot summer afternoon as I walked to her house, I remember the joyful sound of an ice-cream truck's musical chimes. The expectation of finding the answers I needed lifted my spirits.
When I got to the practitioner's office, she pointed out a small, framed drawing hanging on the wall. It was a sparrow, nestled in the cupped palms of two outstretched hands. The practitioner said, "You're just like this bird, safe in our Father's loving hands." I stared at the picture and drank in her words, spoken so gently yet firmly. We closed our eyes and prayed silently together.
