Recently I found in my flower bed, a weed whose staying qualities seemed very tenacious. Every day or two I would find a fresh shoot started, and, as always before, I would pull it up. I do not know the number of times that I pulled up the shoot, but one morning, as a fresh one had made its appearance, it came to me to go farther down. So I dug into the soft soil with thumb and finger, to get a firmer hold, but to my surprise the farther down I went the more firmly the root seemed to be lodged. With the aid of a knife I finally succeeded in dislodging the root, and found it nearly as large around as my thumb and about four inches long. As I looked at it I could but wonder what kind of success I would have had in getting rid of it had I continued simply to pull off the top.

As I held this growth in my hand, I remembered Jesus' words: "Every plant, which my heavenly Father hath not planted, shall be rooted up;" and Truth brought home to me a very searching question, Was I trying to get rid of the error and discordant conditions which seemed to be a part of my problem, as I did that weed? While I have had many beautiful demonstrations of divine Love, and of the efficacy of God's power to alleviate suffering and distress, yet I did not seem to progress as I ought; I seemed in bondage—I was not free. Had I been trying to dispose of these errors which seemed so real without searching deep into my own consciousness for the root-thought, the persistent belief in a life apart from God, which might produce them?

At once I began a searching process which revealed many things that were indeed roots of error and all offshoots of the one big root the belief that life is material rather than spiritual. While the time thus spent was not pleasant perhaps, yet when I was willing to give up everything that was not of Truth's planting, willing to scrutinize honestly every motive in order to determine its source and to be obedient to God's way, the burdens began to lift, and I experienced a clearer vision of the allness of God, good. I also began to have more love for my fellow men, and one by one the discordant conditions are slipping away into their native nothingness. I trust I have learned well the lesson,— "Stand porter at the door of thought" (Science and Health, p. 392), and to keep my door so carefully guarded that only Truth and Love can find entrance.

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March 9, 1912

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