I was quite young when a friend from across the street asked if I would like to ride his new bike—a fast, sleek machine with ten gears and special brakes. I was excited but a bit apprehensive as I mounted the leather saddle.

Now, this friend lived atop a hill, on a road feeding right down onto a city street. As I quickly gained speed, I noticed a car coming down the street below. I tried to pedal in reverse to apply the brakes as I did on my own bike, not being aware that on this new bike you had to squeeze a lever on the handlebars to apply the brakes. I swerved to miss the car, but the bike and I went down hard and slid across the street.

The next thing I knew, I was in a bathtub, and my mother was leaning over me and gently cleaning me. Most of my skin was lacerated, and I was finding no comfort. My parents had immediately called a Christian Science practitioner—someone who is in the full-time practice of spiritual healing—to pray for me.