So you have a bad back. You don't go to a "regular" doctor. You have no faith in that profession. Instead, you submit yourself to your local acupuncturist. She is a healer.
She treats your body like it's a pincushion. But no needles actually go into your back, instead, there are needles in your feet, your hands, behind your ears, in your belly. You lay back and meditate for an hour and a half - stuck up with little needles like a fatted pig.
After the session, you get a tin of black goop, and a package of herbs which you are to brew into a tea - two teaspoons stirred into a cup of hot water, which you drink three times a day. The goop stinks, and you are to cake it on your back. The herbal tea tastes just like dirt. Remember when you were a kid and used to be made to eat dirt? Yes, it's just like that.
You are desperate to get rid of the pain in your back, so you do it all, just as instructed. Religiously. More religiously than you have ever done anything in your life. And the back is better. Lots better, much better, almost healed.
You don't know why or how. It just is. What is the moral of the story? I suppose when you need healing, best to find a healer.