Having now passed my ninety-sixth birthday, I am still enjoying excellent health. At one time I lived in Westwood Hills, a suburb of Los Angeles. But I decided I wanted to live near the ocean, so I got in my car and drove north, sure that I knew where I wanted to locate. Suddenly, alone in my car, the thought came, "Turn and go south! There is no church in this direction!" Attending church services and participating in committee work meant so much to me, I knew I should listen to this direction. I turned around and drove south. Eventually I stopped in front of a real estate office in a small beach town. After I inquired about the possibility of buying a house in the area, the real estate agent loaned me the key to a house that had a front gate which opened on to the strand—a wide, paved promenade along the edge of the beach. It was the desire of a lifetime come true! After I returned the key, contact was made with the owner, and in due time we exchanged property. How glad I was that I had been impelled to change direction that day, for it was my pleasure to serve in the local branch church there for twenty-four years.

One Wednesday night following our church service, a young friend came home with me to discuss some things. About eleven o'clock we walked out to the back of my place where I waited for her to cross the street and enter her car. As I turned to go into the house, I lost my balance, fell, and struck my head on a cement meter box. The pain was terrific, and I cried out to God. My friend heard me, came back and picked me up, and helped me into the house. I appeared to have suffered a concussion, and I also experienced a convulsion. After staying a while, my friend left at my urging, and with much effort I undressed, got into bed, and turned out the light. All of a sudden in front of me there seemed to be emblazoned on the wall the words of that week's Bible Lesson subject from the Christian Science Quarterly: "Are Sin, Disease, and Death Real?" One line from the lesson came immediately to thought (Science and Health by Mrs. Eddy, p. 493), "Disease is an experience of so-called mortal mind." I quickly grasped something of the import of this statement and exclaimed, "Why, of course, these bones, this flesh, know nothing of what supposedly happened a few minutes ago! It was all just 'an experience of so-called mortal mind.'" With this clear realization, the convulsions eased and I fell asleep. A few hours later the convulsions returned, but I again very firmly declared, "No! This is just an experience of so-called mortal mind." This time I fell sound asleep and woke as I usually do at 6 a.m. A few aftereffects may have lingered a day or two, but I was not inconvenienced. That Thursday someone visited me, unaware that I'd had any unpleasant experience. On Friday I drove my car and went shopping—feeling entirely well.

I have much gratitude for the affection and care the members of my family have extended to me, and for the warmth and love of my fellow church members. Of course I am endlessly grateful to God for all good.