Decades ago, when we were new to Christian Science, we took our small children to spend a vacation on a farm. It was a pious farm family and I had indicated to them my faith, and offered our help at this busy harvesting time.
“Are you able to drive a tractor?” I was not and didn’t dare to. But one day I was asked “in the name of neighborly Christian love,” to help move the big manure pile by forking it into the manure spreader. So there I was, in big rubber boots, standing next to the strapping farmer and trying, with Christian love and with ambition, to heave as much onto this voluminous wagon as this giant of a man was able to.
When the wagon was finally full, he drove it to the nearby field to spread the stuff and I had just a little time to recuperate. And then a neighbor came by: “Well, how are your hands doing?” This question was to the mark: Nowadays I have my own garden and I have calloused skin, but in those days I had neither!
