Anna’s Mother - Christian Science Sentinel, Dec. 3, 2007
When my daughter asked for a snake for her birthday, I gulped in dread. Ever since she was a small child, she’d been fascinated with reptiles and fearless with the ones she met at petting zoos and at pet shops. I, on the other hand, had a lifelong fear of snakes and had largely managed to avoid them. One time when I found a king snake in the greenhouse of our New Mexico home, I had to call a neighbor to remove it while I hid in another room. Disturbed as I was at the thought of living with a snake, I felt that my anxiety was not a valid enough reason to turn down my daughter’s request. She’d put in many hours of research, proving herself ready and able to care for an animal. She encouraged me by writing up pages of information with pictures of the type of snake she’d selected and spoke enthusiastically about the attractive appearance and disposition of the breed she’d chosen.
Even though I’d hoped that educating myself might help overcome my repulsion, the more I saw and read about snakes, the more anxious I felt. I’d heard all about snakes from the standpoint of zoologists, veterinarians, and reptile owners. What I really wanted was a spiritual sense of them.
That night before bed, I took out my copy of Science and Health. I found this helpful description: “The serpent of God’s creating is neither subtle nor poisonous, but is a wise idea, charming in its adroitness, for Love’s ideas are subject to the Mind which forms them,—the power which changeth the serpent into a staff” (p. 515). The idea that God, whom we can see as divine Love, intelligently governs all of creation brought a refreshing change to the way I’d been thinking. This spiritual sense of there being a divine Principle to life was exactly what was missing from all my earlier considerations.
And so I went forward with plans to get a snake for my daughter. At the breeder’s warehouse, we walked through an enormous room filled with bins and tanks of snakes in various sizes. I held on to the idea that each snake was “subject to the Mind which forms them.” We arranged for delivery of a young ball python, and I kept praying to understand more clearly God’s goodness and control.
My anxiety steadily lessened, replaced by an expectancy of good. One night, after the snake had come to live with us, I was wakened with the thought that he needed me. The thought persisted, and I went into the next room and discovered that the heating element in his tank wasn’t working. I set up an infrared lamp and got things warmed up. The next day when I passed by, the snake lifted his head to me. I felt quite friendly toward him and thought, “Now there is God’s beautiful creature!” After that, I felt at ease holding him on a regular basis.
The image of harmony among all creatures, prophesied by Isaiah in the Bible, has, to a degree, come to our household: “The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them” (Isa. 11:6).
I’m grateful—and my daughter is delighted—that I now look at snakes with appreciation and kinship.
Read Anna’s side of the tail (hee hee.)