LAST SUMMER, my husband and I spent a few days at my mother's house, on her parcel of land in the south of Chile, a few kilometers away from a town. One day we decided to take a drive with our three nephews aged 18, 13, and 9, and entered a region near a mountain range, where indigenous communities live.

At a certain point on the drive, we noticed that two men on horseback were watching as our family got out of the car and took photos. We were commenting on the beauty of the tall mountains and the many native trees and shrubs. To me, it was as if the landscape had been a silent witness to an important part of the country's history.

When we were back in the van, ready to go home, we noticed a man on horseback who passed us at great speed, then turned and rode toward us, forcing us to stop. He put his foot on the hood of our vehicle, and we could see that he carried a club the size of a baseball bat. Screaming all sorts of offenses, he forced us to get out and talk, while he threatened to call some relatives to beat us up and damage our van.

The children, my husband, and I were all terrified. It was easy to see that this man didn't have friendly intentions, and he was inebriated. As I tried to calm the children and myself, the only thing that came to me was the Lord's Prayer from the Bible. But I was so nervous that I couldn't remember anything beyond, "Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name" (Luke 11:2). So I just repeated that phrase to myself, trying to grasp a spiritual truth that would save us from harm. I continued in this prayer until the thought simply came to me, "This man is also a son of God." No sooner had I thought this than the fear left me completely.

A great calm came over me, and I felt impelled to open the van's door. Standing on the running board with my entire body outside the vehicle, I asked the man to let us leave, saying that he was frightening the children and that we had no evil intentions, we only wanted to admire the sights. Nevertheless, he yelled at us for being on "his land" without permission. He spoke of businessmen who had tried to buy them out and kick them off their land in order to build a geothermal plant, but that his people were prepared for anything, even to fight to defend their property. (I later found out that in that region, the government had already expropriated land to build dams and had moved some of the indigenous Pehuenche people elsewhere.)

I insisted that he let us go, and I also apologized for having offended him by visiting without proper permission. I also explained that we knew nothing of his people's plight. As I continued to speak, I asked the man if he believed in God, and he said he did. He asked me if I also believed in God, and I answered that I did. Then I told him I was sure God did not like this kind of thing; God did not like violence because we were His children and we shouldn't be fighting each other.

The man began to calm down and said he was a "good man," to which I replied that because he was God's child, I knew he was good. I told him again that we had no intention of causing harm and asked him to please let us pass. He became quieter, even apologized for his foul language, and moved away from the van, allowing us to leave and calmly go home.

On the way home, the great silence that filled our vehicle was soon broken by my crying, a mixture of relief and sadness, since I'd seen and felt in that man's rage the turmoil the indigenous people of the world have experienced throughout history. In that moment, I felt that it was necessary to pray for them, and I thought of what the Scriptures say, that God "is no respecter of persons" (Acts 10:34) and therefore does not play favorites with His children.

I realized that to God, we are all His children, all equal, with the same rights. In His eyes there is no race, no social class, no one place better than another. Everything belongs to God, and we are all brothers and sisters, sharing the same Father-Mother. With these prayers, my tears were dried. My nephews, my husband, and I agreed that we felt enormous gratitude for the protection we all received, including that man.

This experience was a great proof of how Christian Science gives us the tools to defend ourselves, sometimes beginning with the words of a powerful prayer, which leads us to the conviction and action that heal. css