"No, not quite. It seems a bundle of contradictions to me."
"To those who are first coming into Science it nearly always seems so. But don't let that worry you. You would like to be cured of your troubles. St. Paul says, 'For the wisdom of this world is foolishness with God.' 'The Lord knoweth the thoughts of the wise—that they are vain.' Do not think of me as a woman, or as having had anything to do with this. I would rather have you think of me as St. Paul describes anyone who works for truth—'Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us, we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God.'"
"You know your Bible, don't you?" said Eugene.
"It is the only knowledge I have," she replied.
There followed one of those peculiar religious demonstrations so common in Christian Science—so peculiar to the uninitiated—in which she asked Eugene to fix his mind in meditation on the Lord's prayer. "Never mind if it seems pointless to you now. You have come here seeking aid. You are God's perfect image and likeness. He will not send you away empty-handed. Let me read you first, though, this one psalm, which I think is always so helpful to the beginner." She opened her Bible, which was on the table near her, and began:
"He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most high shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.
"I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress; my God; in him will I trust.
"Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence.
"He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust: his truth shall be thy shield and thy buckler.
"Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night, nor for the arrow that flieth by day. Nor for the pestilence that walketh in the darkness; nor for destruction that wasteth at noonday.