This past summer I was left a condo in Florida, which needed to be sold ASAP, as there was little money to cover the mortgage and other expenses.

Setting out to accomplish what looked like a relatively simple assignment, I kept running up against the same moaning and groaning from prospective buyers, in that they were disturbed because the dumpsters were directly off the patio. Aesthetically speaking, it did not look promising. People came and people went—all with the same lament. "Nice unit, but two dumpsters, too close."

I took the necessary bureaucratic steps to have them moved. The condo director promised to try to remove one dumpster from the area, but the condo association had voted earlier to put two dumpsters side-by-side in this location, in order to beautify the area where one had been originally.

Each time I broached the subject with the director, I was becoming angrier, more resentful, to the point of being downright hateful. I knew things were getting out of hand when I started talking out loud to myself at home.

I decided to go over her head and up the ladder of authority—to no avail. My phone calls were not returned. One person told me that the condo would sell eventually because "the season" was not far off.

Talked-down-to, frustrated, I felt at a loss. Foreclosure was looking like a plausible scenario. I pretty much resigned myself to this being the inevitable outcome. If it sold, then it sold. If not, oh well. I was preparing myself for the letdown.

Having studied Christian Science for approximately four years, I can testify to having had numerous physical healings through prayer, most with the help of a Christian Science practitioner who has the patience of Job. For example, after several futile attempts to drive after dark over a period of some 20 years, I was instantly healed of night blindness.

Praying me through the condo crisis, the practitioner gently reminded me: "Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths" (Prov. 3:5, 6). Meditating on this verse brought me a measure of peace. I needed to turn away from my limited, finite perspective.

I knew that I had to see the condo director as being a child of God. I began to recognize that she had been very kind and helpful to me—her door was always open to me as well as to others seeking assistance. She called me at home to furnish me with answers to my myriad questions. So my subsequent visits to her lacked any mention of the dumpsters—or any business-type interactions. It was strictly friendly with very light conversation. Soon, we were friends again. I shared with her that I was job-hunting. She told me that her dad was ill.

I decided to place an ad in the classified section of our local newspaper, which I found out later would appear on the World Wide Web. And I got calls—even from up North! The inquiries just kept coming.

The first couple to look at the unit after this ad went out to the universe made an offer which I accepted. It was, for them, just what was needed. On their heels, another couple was inquiring for friends. The woman exclaimed very loudly, "Nice, but I know they won't want those two dumpsters in full view." I nervously chirped out as bravely as possible, "I am trying to have one of them moved."

But knocking me over with a feather would have been too much when the man whose generous offer I had just taken said that he did not want the dumpsters moved at all. He liked them right where they were because he did not want to walk any distance to throw out the trash. And that was that.

"Divine Love always has met and always will meet every human need," wrote Mary Baker Eddy (Science and Health, p. 494). With that sale, the proceeds went to a trust and the attorney. All other proceeds that I gleaned from my newfound understanding of Truth and Love are mine—forever.