[Name withheld by request]

"She doesn't care about her children," the attorney declared in his closing argument. "All she wants is their money."

He was talking about me. And he was wrong. But what could I do to prove it?

We learn in Christian Science that no matter how impressive the mortal evidence, no matter how humanly logical or even legally binding, it carries no weight against the invincible power of Truth. If a situation is not inherently right, not rooted in goodness and order, it can be adjusted and realigned with divine Principle. We never need to run scared when we put down our mortal opinions and listen humbly for the Father's guidance.

Mrs. Eddy writes in Science and Health, "Whatever holds human thought in line with unselfed love, receives directly the divine power." ^{Science and Health, p. 192.} If ever I needed to see immediate proof of divine power, it was in that courtroom, where the integrity of my motherhood was under such severe attack.

Because my children's father and I had been divorced shortly before he passed on, his entire estate—much larger than I had realized when I accepted a property settlement—was left in trust for our two little boys, to be handed over to them at age twenty-one. The trustee refused to pay me anything for their upbringing. They were then two and three. To support them in modest comfort during their growing-up years, I would need to work full time.

As a temporary measure the three of us moved in with my mother, and I found a job. With our combined resources we would make it financially.

But something seemed out of balance. Was it really God's guidance for me to turn over the rearing of my children to someone else, no matter how beloved and competent she was? But what else could I do?

One day it occurred to me that perhaps I could make a claim against my husband's estate and adjust the property settlement. The more I prayed, asking the Father, like Paul, "What wilt thou have me to do?" ^{Acts 9:6.} the more reasonable this course seemed. I would be claiming legally only what would have been mine had the divorce settlement been based on complete disclosure of joint assets, assets which I had helped earn during our marriage. With such a sum wisely invested, I would be able to quit work and bring up my children as a full-time mother.

Yet the human arguments against such a plan were daunting. Would people view this action as that of a mother suing her own children? Wouldn't it be better just to let well enough alone?

The answer came as I studied Mrs. Eddy's Message to The Mother Church for 1902: "Many sleep who should keep themselves awake and waken the world." This encouraged me to take my stand for my highest sense of right. The property settlement simply wasn't right. The rest of that wonderful passage pointed the way: "Earth's actors change earth's scenes; and the curtain of human life should be lifted on reality, on that which outweighs time; on duty done and life perfected, wherein joy is real and fadeless. ... Consult thy every-day life; take its answer as to thy aims, motives, fondest purposes, and this oracle of years will put to flight all care for the world's soft flattery or its frown." ^{02, p. 17 .} I could wake up, change this particular earth scene, do my duty as a mother—and not worry about the world's frown!

After weeks of consecrated prayer, scrutinizing and purifying my motives, I finally talked to a lawyer. Wouldn't it be possible, I asked, to reexamine and adjust the financial settlement? The attorney, a dedicated Christian Scientist, accepted the case but made it clear that whatever action I took would have to be a straightforward claim against my husband's estate and might indeed be perceived by others as a mercenary attack on my children.

This is exactly how the claim was regarded by my husband's brother, the trustee under his will. And it was also the line of defense adopted by his lawyers: I wasn't concerned about the children's welfare, just their money. They kept pounding home the fact that I had agreed to a financial settlement, signed the papers, and accepted the funds.

Whenever I felt overwhelmed by timidity and self-doubt during the long months of preparing the case (which I often did!), I clung to Mrs. Eddy's strengthening words quoted earlier. This was an opportunity to lift "the curtain of human life"—to see beyond mortal appearances and mortal opinions and look "on reality, on that which outweighs time." I could turn from criticism to what was spiritually real in my everyday life: the unselfed love I felt for my children, which certainly included genuine concern for their well-being. This was the answer to what my "aims, motives, fondest purposes," were and would surely "put to flight all care for the world's ... frown." What anyone else thought didn't matter so long as I knew that God was motivating me.

When the trial began and day followed day of questions and cross-examination, I kept prayerfully reaffirming my true identity as the spiritual child of God and my right to express more fully the motherhood of God in my human experience. As the case progressed, however, the same charge of greed remained and in fact loomed even larger.

I remembered that Christ Jesus, even when maligned, continued to love. And in the Sermon on the Mount he made it clear to his disciples exactly what he meant by loving. "I say unto you," he told them, "Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you; that ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven." ^{Matt. 5:44, 45.}

As a present-day disciple, surely I could at least try to love as Jesus did. And a good place to start was with my husband's brother. Little by little I was able to replace hurt, self-pity, and self-righteousness with genuine love for him. I didn't like what he was doing, but I understood it. My action had put him in an awkward position, and he was simply doing what he thought was required: "fighting" me in defense of his brother's estate. I would have to bring what was real in my everyday life into still clearer focus—and love what was real in his.

Paul's tender advice to the Thessalonians was such a comfort during these challenging days: "See that none render evil for evil unto any man .... Rejoice evermore. Pray without ceasing. ... Prove all things." ^{I Thess. 5:15–17, 21.} "Prove"! To me that word had a special meaning. How could I prove my motive to the court? I prayed to know. What could be done to prove my love for my children?

The answer my lawyer came up with was surprisingly simple: call them as "witnesses." Not to testify, of course, but simply to be there. My mother was to bring them to court and sit in plain sight of the judge. We all agreed that no one could give better evidence of my motherhood than the children themselves. They were the prime authority!

So that's what we did—and it was the turning point. The whole atmosphere of the courtroom changed. Even though the trial went on for another week and the judge took the case under advisement for three more months, I never doubted the outcome: complete restoration of my rightful assets.

The day my little boys sat quietly in that courtroom, bearing silent witness to their mother's integrity, the purity of my motive was established. From then on, no mortal testimony could shake the evidence.

The growing-up years were fruitful ones—for me as well as the boys; and the rightness of my action was finally acknowledged by their uncle.

How grateful we can be that false, material evidence, no matter how valid it seems, never holds up when we oppose it firmly and courageously, trusting the spiritual reality we perceive and practice to counter every erroneous claim. Truth is the witness that can resolve every human conflict.