A True Story
by Herbert W. Eustace
There was a little shaver, a little chap whose mother was a Christian Science practitioner. This little fellow was alone in the house when the doorbell rang. He marched to the door, opened it and saw what seemed to him to be a terrible sight — a very large woman, evidently very much out of proportion, through a belief of a cyst or a tumor. The little fellow was almost dumbfounded. He had not expected that sort of thing, but he braced up like the little man he was, and said, “Did you come to see my mother?” She said, “Yes, that is what I came for.” “Did you want her to treat you?” “Yes,” she said, somewhat amused at her little questioner. “Well,” he said, “my mother is not in, but you come in and I’ll treat you.” She followed him into the house — and note the beautiful humility of this woman, meekly following the child in. When you realize, as I have since learned, that she was quite a society woman and very full of her own importance, just think of the sweet humility she presented. She followed that little chap into the room. He gave her a chair and took one himself. In just a few moments he said, “Now, that’s all, you can go.” He took her to the door, showed her out, and thought nothing more about it. It was done. He had finished all there was to do and rightly forgot it.
But the next morning the telephone rang, quite early, and his mother answered it. An excited voice at the other end said, “Oh, it’s wonderful, it’s wonderful. I’m healed. I’m healed.” The mother, not knowing what had taken place, did not know who was talking at the other end of the line and inquired, “What do you mean, ‘I’m healed’?” “Why, didn’t your little son tell you that I came yesterday, while you were away — came to have you treat me? He said that you were out, but that if I would come in, he would treat me. I went in and he treated me, and it’s wonderful, I’m healed.” Then the mother was excited, too. She went and found the little chap and asked him, “Did anything take place, particularly, yesterday, when I was away?” “Oh, no,” he said, “nothing.” “Well,” she said, “did anyone come to see me?” “Oh yes,” he said, “a great big woman came to see you and wanted you to treat her, and so I said if she wanted a treatment I would treat her, and I did. That was all.” He dismissed it again, but his mother could not, and said, “Well, what did you do?” (This is a peculiarity of mothers; and of some other people, too. They always want to know what the child does when giving a treatment). The little fellow answered, “I knew that God was bigger than she was.” He wrapped the whole mountain of lies in the infinity of Truth, divine Love, and left it with implicit faith and confidence, right there.