SINCE THE TIME MY DAUGHTER was very young, we'd had many battles of will. Of course I always loved her very much, but sometimes these confrontations became so intense she became almost unrecognizable to me. Eventually I'd find myself giving in to her demands, just to keep some peace and to be sure that I was not imposing my will on her.

Then, a few years ago, I began to view our relationship more constructively, when a small bump appeared under her big toe. It grew larger and sometimes hurt when she walked. I became quite concerned. She loved her dance class, and I didn't want this growth to limit her, or for her to suffer in any way.

I requested the help of a Christian Science practitioner to pray about this. Over the years, I've found that prayer in Christian Science has been effective not only in healing but in maintaining health. As a single parent, I pray for my daughter every day, acknowledging that God is her true Father and Mother. I was sure that prayer would be effective this time, too.

The practitioner gently reminded me that the answer to this problem was mental—a recognition that as God's child, my daughter was spiritual, not material. This turned my attention away from the growth and my fear of it. Then it occurred to me how bothered I was that my daughter seemed so strong-willed, and I mentioned her stubbornness to the practitioner. I prayed to understand that as God's child, my daughter included only spiritual qualities, such as lovingkindness and gentleness. I endeavored to see her as naturally loving to do right, participating in all aspects of family life—including picking up after herself and not expecting me to wait on her hand and foot.

A couple of weeks later, we had another confrontation, and my daughter claimed that she hated me. I insisted that I knew she didn't hate me, but loved me, and that I loved her. I also insisted—out loud—that God was right there, loving us both. Although upset (this was the worst disagreement we'd ever had), I still felt strongly that it was not right to allow her to continue with this kind of behavior, and I also felt I had to stand up to the error of her hateful remark with the truth that Love, God, was all that could really be present.

I can't describe how dramatic and intense that whole scene was at first. But eventually she grabbed my hand and asked me to read her a story—something I hadn't done in years. As I read, we started laughing because she could read faster to herself than I could read out loud, and she wanted to turn the pages before I was ready.

That was a sign of progress. But then a few days later she actually tried to hit me, something I don't recall her ever trying to do before. Again I insisted on love, not hate. I prayed to feel God's presence, the presence of divine Love itself. I grabbed her arms, hugged her, and did not allow her to hit me.

The important thing here, as I now see it, was that I wasn't trying to force her to do my will, but insisting to us both that God was right there, even where petulance and anger seemed to be. The disagreement ended quickly. Soon, I realized that these latest incidents marked a turning point.

A couple of days later, my daughter said, "Mom! Come look at my foot!" The growth had diminished considerably. Within a few more days, it was completely gone for good. That was over two years ago.

My daughter is now a very active and happy sixth-grader. We may not always agree about everything, but her nature has become sweeter and less stubborn. Never again has she said she hated me, tried to hit me, or cried uncontrollably.

From this healing I learned that our mother-daughter relationship is not about my will versus hers. It's about God's good will for both of us. css