YOU HAVEN'T HEARD of Abner Pratt? He was once the chief justice of the Michigan Supreme Court and was appointed United States Consul to the Sandwich Islands—now known as Hawaii. Mr. Pratt was so enamored with Hawaii that in the early 1860s, in his hometown of Marshall, Michigan, he built an approximation of his island residence and called it the Honolulu House. To the point of this article, the story goes that Pratt passed away because he was inclined to illness by his habit of wearing tropical island clothes during the severe winters we have here in Michigan.

That reminds me of a friend who vacationed in Hawaii. While there, he developed what he called "a doozy of a cold." He remarked of the experience, "So much for health theories based on climate."

In the Northern Hemisphere, the season is fast approaching when the successors to the press that told the news of Justice Pratt's demise will be reporting on the latest rounds of flu shots, and detailing the extent to which winter's seasonal illnesses are affecting people in different states and provinces. What to do? We cannot all winter in Hawaii, Arizona, or Florida, though apparently that isn't a solution anyway.

Some years ago, I had an experience that may offer some ideas about a solution. It happened during what is popularly known around here as the "dead" of winter, meaning short days, often with overcast skies, penetrating cold, accumulated ice, snow, and slush, and frequent arctic winds—for instance, last winter we had something like six consecutive weeks when the temperature did not rise above freezing. During that cold spell some years back, I had promised to take my wife and daughter to a meeting. I was feeling and looking miserable, but I wanted to keep my promise. So I dropped them off at the door, parked in the lot, and trudged toward the meeting hall—my cap pulled down, my collar pushed up, and my scarf just about one notch looser than choking.

I was also praying. That's the important thing. And partway to the hall I was stopped in my tracks by a startling spiritual insight. I don't remember the exact words the thought took, but I remember stopping to revel in the idea, even as the wind howled through the pine trees on either side of the path. The insight had to do with the fact that as a creation of God I didn't have to suffer, because He made me perfect. You know, that's a wonderful idea. I would even call it a heavenly message.

Now, that idea was not really new to me. It was an old friend. But that evening it penetrated deeper into my thoughts. At that moment it came alive with fresh meaning and promise. I believed it. I actually loved it. It was truth to me, and it resonated with authority and comforting warmth.

As I walked the rest of the way to the hall absorbed with that idea, it gave me more warmth than did the goose down in my jacket. I don't mean to exaggerate it, but that heavenly message meant everything to me. The wind and cold ebbed away from my thoughts as nothing. At that moment I wasn't thinking of the message primarily in a healing context. But I was utterly impressed with its truth. Its honesty. Its reality. I had been given a new sense of God's love existing right there where I was at that moment. I knew it was a message from God, divine Love, concerning who I really was, and it overthrew all the miserable, suffering feelings I was having. It even overthrew my opinion of the weather as merciless and oppressive. It was a moment of a kind of spiritually mental spring, fresh and light.

Two minutes later, when I stepped through the door into the meeting hall, I felt entirely well. All the agony had vanished. There was no more tightness in my throat, no more congestion, no more heavy voice or aching eyes. I felt as healthy as could be. It was reminiscent of something Science and Health says: "Become conscious for a single moment that Life and intelligence are purely spiritual,—neither in nor of matter,—and the body will then utter no complaints. If suffering from a belief in sickness, you will find yourself suddenly well" (p. 14). I'm sure that's what happened in my case that night.

The thoughts we think control the body. Exposure and contagion affect us only if we believe they have power. When we find a way to stop believing the elements have power to cultivate or perpetuate illness and suffering, we're less affected by them—just as when we stop believing in ghosts, we no longer fear them.

But what is "a way to stop believing . . ." ? I feel the way in this case is something other than a path or method of physical action. It's more a path or method of spiritual thought. It echoes Jesus' statement, "I am the way" (John 14:6). To me, his use of the word way referred to the forever Christ—to the gentle truth that we are the likeness of God, His beloved image, as the Bible says (see Gen. 1:26, 27). We walk in this way when we follow Him by embracing and obeying those ideas. Mrs. Eddy wrote, "The way is absolute divine Science: walk ye in it ..." (Miscellaneous Writings 1883-1896, P. 359). One way to think of "absolute divine Science" is as the present fact of God's totality and our unity with Him. At first, it may seem strange to think of ourselves as perfect when we feel sick, or as spiritual when we appear so emphatically to be material. It may seem strange to say that spiritual laws of good govern us, when illness seems so ultimate. so powerful

What may seem stranger still is that we all have spiritual awareness—an ability to accept our perfection. Though it tends to get buried in our minds under mounds of common beliefs and widely accepted health theories, that awareness is there because God causes us to have it. With this awareness, we need not be afraid of seasonal illnesses. We need not quarrel over compulsory inoculations, nor feel obligated to accept voluntary ones out of the belief that they are necessary for protection. We need not believe we have to be infected by sneezing, congested business associates, fellow commuters, or family members.

Not that one person is protected by an impenetrable cocoon of spiritual security and another isn't. That's not God's kind of love. Rather, God's allness and goodness exist everywhere and enfold even those who appear to be ill. In fact, I'm coming to learn to appreciate more and more that the people around me actually are well in God's sight. This is an assurance from divine Love that not only protects me but also blesses them.

Jesus' words, "I am with you alway" (Matt. 28:20), give promise of the forever Christ, Truth, present in the hearts and convictions of every one of us. Now that's love, and seeing it more clearly offers an effective defense against seasonal illnesses.