One afternoon, I was in our pasture attending to one of our horses, when all of a sudden the horse kicked me in the eye. Moments before, I had realized I didn't have my glasses on, but had decided not to go and get them. How grateful I was for that now.

Right away, I started to pray. Growing up attending a Christian Science Sunday School, I had learned that prayer puts us on the path to discerning what is spiritually true about any circumstance. I started praying out loud—shouting—the Lord's Prayer and a passage from Science and Health that refutes the notion that matter is self-powered and has feeling and sensation: "There is no life, truth, intelligence, nor substance in matter. All is infinite Mind and its infinite manifestation, for God is All-in-all" (p. 468). I also declared out loud a prayer I use daily, which says in part, "... let the reign of divine Truth, Life, and Love be established in me ..." (Mary Baker Eddy, Church Manual, p. 41).

I filled my thoughts with these prayers. The most immediate effect was that I didn't feel any pain from the serious blow to my eye. Instead I felt God's presence right there with me. I didn't spend time wondering what my face might look like, or worrying about the possible damage to my head.

I walked to a hose near our house and began washing my eye, still shouting my prayers. By this time, my wife had come out of her office. She didn't react or express surprise, but just looked at my face and affirmed that I was OK. She was not basing this assertion on material appearance, but on spiritual truth. She then asked me if I wanted to call a Christian Science practitioner to pray for me. That sounded good to me.

My wife brought me the phone and some paper towels. As she cleaned my face, I called a practitioner and listened to the wonderful ideas he shared—that God loved me, that I was loved by His creation, including the horse, and that no harm could come to me. These truths calmed and reassured me. The shock I'd felt dissipated quickly. The practitioner said he would be glad to help me, and continued to pray for me over the next couple of days.

When my wife asked me which horse had kicked me, I told her it was her horse, Trigger. She walked over to see what might have caused this normally tranquil animal to snap like this. Coming back, she said, "Wrong horse. That's Eagle." Eagle was one of five palominos we had then—untrained and wild as a March hare.

My wife helped me back into the house where she further cleaned the area around my eye. She thought it might be a good idea to bandage the wound. I agreed, and she covered my eye with a gauze patch.

From other healings I'd had, I was sure of prayer's healing power. Prayer was what allowed me to stay in that spiritual place where I could be absolutely sure of my spiritual identity—God's perfect, invulnerable idea.

With that as a starting point, I continued to stay focused on knowing that nothing harmful could happen to me—no accident, no mistake—because in reality, it was impossible for me to be outside of God's infinite love and care. This helped me get past the concept of physicality as the basis of my identity, vulnerable to injury or its possible lingering consequences. It also helped me deal with some feelings of resentment toward the horse. As I prayed to see that all of God's creation reflected the divine qualities to some degree, with no lapses, I saw that the horse wasn't mean or threatening. He wasn't trying to harm me—I'd just hit a sore place, and it bothered him.

Two days later, I had to go to my office, about 30 miles away. My wife reduced the size of the bandage to cover just a small area above my eye. For the first time, I looked in a mirror. I could see little evidence of the injury. When a friend at work expressed concern about possible internal damage from the injury, I thanked him, and told him that I was treating the situation with prayer and was sure I could trust it to heal me completely.

By the fourth day, we removed the bandage above my eye, and I ushered at a church service. My glasses covered the only remaining mark.

During this whole time, I suffered no pain or distress. My brow was slightly swollen for a couple of weeks, but it was barely noticeable. A slight tingling was apparent on the top of my head, and I continued to pray about this for a period of two months until this, too, went away completely.

At the moment when the horse kicked me, I had known I had to mentally turn away from the physical evidence. Instead of replaying the scene in my thoughts, or speculating about possible outcomes, I had felt the need to constantly affirm the truth about God and myself as His spiritual likeness. The confirmation of these truths was a quick and complete healing, with no negative side effects.

My wife's calm support and the prayers of the practitioner were a tremendous aid in bringing about this healing. I'm grateful to have again experienced the divine promise: that we can never be removed from health, harmony, and happiness.

WAYNE MAYNARD
OROSI, CALIFORNIA