One Wednesday last summer I helped a friend prepare the nursery for her first child. I was happy to be involved with this special project and felt filled with love.

At one point during the day, while alone in the house, I stood up quickly and forcefully hit my head on a piece of sharp metal rebar. I felt it cut the length of my forehead, stopping just above my eye.

My first thought was of gratitude that my eye had been protected, and my next thought was to clean my bleeding forehead.

At the same time, this phrase from Mary Baker Eddy's writings came to me crystal clear, even though I wasn't aware that I'd memorized it: "No evidence before the material senses can close my eyes to the scientific proof that God, good, is supreme" (Miscellaneous Writings 1883—1896, p. 277). I became so filled with the certainty of the truth described there that my fear and the pain immediately disappeared. It was also clear to me how impossible it was to experience harm while feeling so much love for my friend in this unselfish activity. I felt sure that there could be no contest between what the physical senses were presenting to me as an injury and what I knew to be the "Scientific proof" that God—good alone—governed my existence, as explained in Christian Science. And since I'd experienced many healings from trusting prayer, it didn't occur to me to seek any other kind of help.

Along with the disappearance of pain and fear, the bleeding had stopped as well by the time I'd cleaned myself up. So, with renewed energy, I felt comfortable continuing to work on the nursery, praying the whole time. But I found myself worrying about how my face would look at our Sunday church service when I was to read aloud the Bible portion of the Christian Science Bible Lesson-Sermon to the congregation. I didn't want anyone to be distracted from hearing God's Word.

I continued to pray for complete healing by affirming my own untouched perfection as God's spiritual expression. Then I recalled that as a child I'd severely injured my head one day before school. There had been a lot bleeding on that day as well, and I'd run to my mom. She held me, declaring calmly the truth of my identity as God's image and likeness, and that God, who is Love itself, gives only good to His children (see Gen. 1:26, 27). I was not afraid, even though as Mom put it, "Error [anything that implies we're out of God's care] tried to paint the picture red to scare you." I'd been fully healed right then and went off to school.

As I thought about that particular healing in first grade, I realized that I didn't need to struggle to reestablish the "scientific proof" of my well-being. I saw that I could simply give thanks for God's immediate and ongoing care.

So part of my prayer included claiming that there are no accidents in God's creation. An accident would imply that there are random forces at play or a power aside from good. That suggestion felt ludicrous to me. So did the notion that God Himself could make a mistake or lose track of me, even for a split second. The more I reasoned this way, the more absurd it seemed that an accident could have taken place at all.

I felt so grateful, and enveloped in divine Love, expressing, receiving, and feeling God's care in every fiber of my being. I finished the nursery and left before my friend had returned. Later, when my husband came home and saw me, he expressed concern for me initially, but immediately supported me in prayer as well. And as we prayed, the wound continued to heal.

Two days later, I saw a very close friend who notices anything that's different, or "off," about me. My forehead had healed so much by then that she didn't mention a thing, even though my hair was swept off my face. And by Sunday, when I read the Bible at church, I was completely healed—there was not a mark or bruise in sight.

I'm grateful for this and many other healings I've experienced through Christian Science treatment.

ANGELA SAGE LARSEN
O'FALLON, MISSOURI, US