Fire quelled; manuscript intact
Many years ago I was responsible for the publication of the college catalogues for New York University’s undergraduate and graduate schools of arts and science. Each catalogue was roughly the size of a paperback book and had several hundred pages. Besides course offerings, they defined the university’s and the students’ responsibilities. Each time we printed a revised edition—about every two years—we had to type a new manuscript. Since it was important for the information to be accurate, my assistant and I spent hours proofreading the original pages, the revisions, and the printer’s proof pages.
One afternoon we both went out to lunch at the same time, but in different directions. As I locked the office door, I briefly thought about how pleasant the room looked. When I came back about an hour later, I tried to open the door, but found that I could not. Finally throwing myself against the door, I got it open, but instead of the pretty room, I saw nothing but blackness. There was a fire in the office, which was filled with smoke. I slammed the door shut and began to tell other occupants of the small building that they needed to leave. I called security, which in turn called the fire department. At some point during this period, I called a Christian Science practitioner and asked her to pray for me.
A crucial issue with this fire was that we had a contract with a printer in Texas that included fixed deadlines for us and for them. This meant that if we missed any of our deadlines, we could no longer hold them to their deadlines. It had been meant to protect us from any delays on their end, but now that was in jeopardy. The printer’s proofs and the only copies of the manuscript we had were in the room with the fire. If we had to reconstruct the manuscript, we would almost surely miss our deadline. This would void their contract obligation.
The practitioner assured me that God’s creation was intact and that anything we actually needed would be intact. I was new in my study of Christian Science and accepted the truth of these statements without any resistance. In my own way, I prayed with them, recognizing that God’s law was my only hope.
After the firemen left, we eagerly went into the office, where we found something a bit unusual. Even though the fire had started in the lamp on my assistant’s desk and had burned a fair amount of the wood on the desktop, only about 20 pages of the manuscript had been burned. The rest somehow had ended up scattered on the floor as though they had been blown there. I immediately thought of the definition of wind in Mary Baker Eddy’s book Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures: “That which indicates the might of omnipotence and the movements of God’s spiritual government, encompassing all things…” (p. 597 ).
As we were thinking about how to replace those missing pages, the assistant dean with whom we were working called, as he had heard about the fire. During our conversation with him, we realized that a day or two before we had given him a copy of the part of the manuscript that had burned. In other words, everything really was intact, even if some of it was a bit dirty and smoke-stained.
The office was repainted and recarpeted—a special treat given university budgets—and we continued our work. When we were done, I called the printer to let him know that some of the proof sheets were going to be dirty and smelly because of the fire, but assured him we would meet the deadline. He told me later that they were laughing over my call, thinking that we were just making up the story so we could miss the deadline. When they got the pages, they stopped laughing and realized that we were just as serious about the deadlines as we expected them to be. And all sides were pleased by the finished product.
I had another small experience during my work there that gave me an unexpected insight into the reach of Christian Science. I had a very busy job supporting 32 departments and lots of deadlines. To stay on schedule, we needed professors and their staff to meet the deadlines we gave them so everything would stay on track. One professor was always late to meetings, never was prepared for the meeting, and never gave a reason for these difficulties.
I prayed a lot about this as I respected him, but the delays were significantly impacting my work. Finally at one late afternoon meeting, I mentioned to him that I would be away for a few days as I was going to Boston. He asked why, and I explained that I was a Christian Scientist and wanted to visit The Mother Church.
The whole atmosphere in the room changed, and I was totally blown away by what he said next: “I’ve always wondered why Mary Baker Eddy discovered Christian Science in Lynn, and not in Boston.” I mentioned one theory about the spirituality of the workers in Lynn, and he said a pastor in Lynn had also told him that.
We chatted a bit longer, and then he left. I never felt I could ask him why he was interested in Mrs. Eddy, but I do know that from that moment on, he was never late and never missed a deadline.
Rosalie E. Dunbar
Dracut, Massachusetts, US
