For Years , I had been the object of extreme antagonism from someone I had to deal with every week. This person was so envious and jealous of me that she actually made me feel she'd like me to be annihilated. I suffered deeply because of this. It's not too much to say her animosity just about brought me to my grave. I felt as if rocks were being put in my path.

But one day about three years ago, while I was praying, the thought came to me: "Why do you stumble over these stones? Use them as stairs, to climb higher in Spirit."

I accepted this idea as God's guidance. And I began to follow it.

Not long after that revelation, however, I began to suffer from intense pain and various physical difficulties, including fever. Wanting help, I called my daughter. She came to my home, bringing a doctor with her: He said he couldn't help me—that I'd have to be taken to the hospital. My daughter insisted that I go.

After a week of testing at the hospital, I came back home. I was free of the fever and inflammation, but the doctor said my gallbladder was filled to the breaking point with stones. He told me that I must return in four weeks for reexamination and surgery. He said, "There's no other way. You can't survive in this state."

Now, that sounds bad. But I was really happy—happy that I could go home and happy that I had four weeks to pray about the problem in the way I'd learned from studying Christian Science.

When I got home, I thought, "So, what do you do first? First, you look at Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures by Mary Baker Eddy." I opened to page 495 and read, "Allow nothing but His [God's] likeness to abide in your thought."

To help do that, I took some of those little Post-it notes and stuck them everywhere I went in the house—in my bedroom, in the bathroom. I wrote that sentence on them so that everywhere I went I'd be reminded to have nothing in my consciousness that was not like divine Love. I wanted nothing else to be in my mind.

So that's how I put my prayer to work. At first it was hard. But I knew that being disciplined as to what I was thinking about would lead to healing. When I felt discouraged, I would remember this sentence on page 22 of Science and Health: "If your endeavors are beset by fearful odds, and you receive no present reward, go not back to error, nor become a sluggard in the race." So I wrote down that sentence on Post-it notes, too.

The day of my scheduled surgery kept getting closer, but I kept feeling happier. I was not at all afraid, not restless or anxious. The day arrived; I went to the hospital, and they examined me—and sent me back to the ward.

The doctor told me to stay in bed, lying down, because that kind of examination was considered very exhausting. She said people usually stayed the night in the hospital afterwards. She said they'd let me know when I was to be operated on. But I was sure I'd be going home.

Dinner came. Then breakfast the next morning. And then I thought I just couldn't stand being in bed anymore. So I got up and went down the hall, where I ran into the doctor.

I said, "Doctor, what's the story with me? I really ought to know."

And she said, "Oh, Frau Malchow, I already have the letter for you. I meant to bring it to you." So I took it and read: "The patient is hereby released as 'cured.' She is free of gallstones."

Can you imagine how I felt? I went home walking on air!

It didn't end there, however. That woman who had been giving me such a hard time? The next time I saw her after my healing, I just felt new—totally changed. This person hasn't yet stopped being hateful and angry toward me, but now whenever she does this, I give her a hug and say, "Oh, you're a dear." And she can't fight against this love.

Before I gained the strength to respond this way, I used to pray, "Dear God, don't let me fall out of Your love. You know I don't want to hate." Then I realized that I can't possibly fall out of God's love. Love is as infinite as God. Where could I possibly go that would be outside of God's love? So now I see, I can always love her. And for that I'm very, very grateful.

Marianne Malchow
Magdeburg, Germany