Prisoners Set Free

In these troubled days many hearts go out in loving gratitude to the brave men and women who are prisoners—some in concentration camps, some in alien ships, others in different kinds of prisons in foreign countries. But others, perhaps in some quiet backwater, far removed from the clamor and stress of war, may forget the debt they owe to them. Is time taken each day to pray that their courage and faith fail not in these dark hours of deprivation and suspense? Measureless endurance is demanded of them in the bitterness of captivity and exile from all they hold dear.

Mary Baker Eddy, the Discoverer and Founder of Christian Science, has written on page 449 of her textbook, "Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures," "A grain of Christian Science does wonders for mortals, so omnipotent is Truth, but more of Christian Science must be gained in order to continue in well doing." If all living in happy freedom in their own beloved country were to send out constantly thoughts winged with the consciousness of God's all-power, who knows how much comfort and encouragement might reach the hearts of those gallant captives.

One student of Christian Science has always been very much interested in prisoners, perhaps because many years ago she was one herself, bound by medical laws and facing a future of suffering and inaction. On pages 433 and 434 of the Christian Science textbook she found these words: "Ah! but Christ, Truth, the spirit of Life and the friend of Mortal Man, can open wide those prison doors and set the captive free." And the doors were opened for the student, and she stepped out into the freedom of an active, happy life.

Some months ago she had occasion to observe a different kind of prisoner. Sitting by her window one day, watching the birds wading in and out of the pools of water left in the harbor by the outgoing tide, she noticed that one little curlew was standing by itself on a small sandy mound, but she gave it no further thought at the moment because she had work to do elsewhere.

It was some time before the Scientist returned to the window, and when she did so she was amazed to see the bird still on the sandy mound, motionless and alone. All the other birds had flown away. Just then the owner of the house came into the room, and, when questioned as to why a bird should remain so long in the same position, she said: "It will never fly again—its wings are clogged with oil and tar from passing ships. Somebody staying here last year was so distressed when he saw any of the birds in such a helpless state that he used to bring them in and try to clean their wings with petrol, but it was quite useless; none of them ever flew again. They always died."

With pity in her heart, the student looked down at the little condemned prisoner. No more joyous flights for it in the sunshine—apparently there remained nothing but an unequal battle with the waves and the jagged rocks. And recognizing that there was no help to be found in anything material, she turned away from the evidence of the senses and lifted her thought resolutely and wholeheartedly to God. Earnestly she tried to realize His omnipotent power, His tender love for His whole creation, His absolute allness.

When thoughts of the little bird's hopeless position tried to force their way into her consciousness, she strove resolutely to keep them out. Mortal mind kept arguing that it was foolish to try to solve a problem that she had just been told had been proved unsolvable many times in the past. But in the face of human testimony she declared silently, insistently, that freedom is the gift of divine Love to all, and that nothing can take it away. She recognized that although she of herself could assuredly do nothing, with God all things were possible. Mrs. Eddy writes (Miscellaneous Writings, p. 124). "For 'who is so great a God as our God!' unchangeable, all-wise, all-just, all-merciful; the ever-loving, ever-living Life, Truth, Love: comforting such as mourn, opening the prison doors to the captive, marking the unwinged bird, pitying with more than a father's pity." Surely, she thought, that same gentle pity would wing its way to the prisoned bird in its fear and isolation.

When at length she returned to the window, dusk was falling rapidly, and the incoming tide had almost surrounded the sandy mound. As she looked down at it again, a sudden sense of awe filled her heart, for just then, with a beautiful sweeping movement down and then upwards, the curlew spread its wings widely, half turned round, appeared to give one quick glance up at the window, and the next moment had flown high over the harbor out of sight. The captive was free. And as the student stood there looking out at the sea, she remembered the words of Jesus to Peter, "O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?"

Whenever that experience is recalled, a verse from the Christian Science Hymnal (No. 340) always comes to her thought: