As a music student in a university, I often spent many hours in a practice room. One time, after I'd set down my instrument to take a break for a few minutes, I slipped and fell with great force on my chin. Immediately I sat up and declared that I could not fall out of God's presence; that my true being was never in a material body and was therefore untouched by material circumstances. I was holding on to my chin when I noticed there was a great deal of bleeding.

Loss of consciousness threatened, so I sang hymns until I felt calmer and able to walk down the hall to the restroom. No one else was around. I washed off my chin but refused to look in the mirror. I didn't want to be impressed by the mortal evidence. Instead, I took a damp towel back to the practice room and occasionally wiped off the chin while I finished practicing.

When I got home, however, my roommates expressed deep concern. Then I did look in the mirror and was alarmed to see a big gash that left a large opening in my chin. I bandaged it and called a Christian Science practitioner, who agreed to help me through prayer. That afternoon, as I continued to pray for myself, one thought that kept recurring was from Science and Health by Mrs. Eddy (p. 124): "Adhesion, cohesion, and attraction are properties of Mind." I had been wondering if it would be best to get stitches, but here was my answer—that immortal Mind holds things together. And I wasn't going to expect matter to do the work of Mind! I knew I could trust this truth.

The next morning, when I took off the bandage, I saw that the wound had completely closed. Only a red line remained, and it disappeared in a short time. The crowning moment of this healing came a few days later, when I received a letter from the practitioner I had called for help. In the first line of her letter she quoted: "Adhesion, cohesion, and attraction are properties of Mind." What a beautiful proof of the allness of the one Mind forever communicating to its idea, man!

A year or so later, there was another incident that really caused me to grow spiritually. I had to give a recital on the instrument I was majoring in. Previously, whenever I'd had to perform before an audience, despite my prayerful preparation, my hands had always shaken uncontrollably. Now I was determined to overcome this.

During the months preceding the recital, my prayer uncovered much that was negative: self-degradation, belief in lack of coordination, limited concentration. I worked to replace these misconceptions with the spiritual qualities I knew I naturally expressed as a child of God. On the day before the recital, I attended a really inspiring Christian Science lecture, and a few hours before my performance, a practitioner was requested to pray for me. After speaking to the practitioner over the phone, I suddenly realized that all along I'd been unwittingly perceiving myself as a limited human mind needing to be convinced that God was in control. But a limited human mind had no part in any of this! Indeed, God, divine Mind, is the source of all true expression, and my job was to bear witness to that fact.

The recital went very well—even better than I had hoped for. Afterward my music teacher, who had recommended many ways of trying to deal with nervousness, told me, "Whatever you did, it worked. Be sure and write it down so you don't forget it!"

I'm sure that no words could adequately convey how grateful I am for Christian Science. Membership in The Mother Church and a branch church, and the joy of class instruction in Science, are added blessings.

In Science and Health Mrs. Eddy assures us (p. 239), "If divine Love is becoming nearer, dearer, and more real to us, matter is then submitting to Spirit." To me this is the most wonderful thing—that as we grow spiritually, God continues to become "nearer, dearer, and more real to us."

ROBIN SMITH
Lakewood, Colorado

It is a pleasure to verify my daughter's testimony. Although she was away at school at the time of the fall, I saw her just a few days later. There was only a thin line on her chin, which rapidly disappeared. Her father and I attended the violin recital and were quite aware of the calmness she exhibited. With each selection she seemed more at ease, and it was obvious she was enjoying herself.

ERLA K. SMITH