The Faithbook

A place of writing and reflection…

She Reached Out


There was a little old lady – no, she didn’t live in a shoe and well…she really wasn’t that old – only forty-five, but you see, she had a problem twelve years old.

No, not a child.

Not a dog or a husband. He left long ago.


It was her problem.

She recalled that week somewhere long ago as it seemed. It was that typical time – you know – her once a month thing. It was okay. No big deal, right?

She had been through the cramps and upset stomach.

A bit emotional at times? Oh yes!

We (women) all are.

Concerned, her husband sent her to the doctor, but there was little they could tell her.

“Perhaps it will go away in a day or two,” he said with a shrug.

And with a shrug of her own she left the office. A week later it was the same as before. Again she went back, but it did no good.

“Perhaps it’s something you’re eating,” the doctor had suggested.

A month later the problem persisted.

The doctor gave her some tests and sent her home. There was nothing to be found. A month later she was referred to another. This doctor prescribed vitamins and rest.

At home, family put her to the test.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Are you okay?”

“Is there something going on?”

A month soon became three. Three double to six and six carried on into a year.

Her husband couldn’t stand it.

“Are you even trying,” he asked. “Don’t you want to get better? What about us? And me? What am I suppose to do?”

In tears she let her head fall into her hands. “I don’t know…I just don’t…”

Another year went by, but her problem was still the same. Then another and another with no hope in sight.

Her husband demanded she be admitted for treatment, but the doctors were sure they had done all they could do. What more their ‘treatments’ only made the problem worse.

“Why me,” sobbed the woman.

She longed for a cure – for release from the sickness. Her friends and family had distanced themselves because of it. They were certain she was hiding something – but what?

Even so the woman declared her innocence. She had done nothing wrong. How could it be her fault?

“The again…,” she thought in the midst of washing dishes from a lonely dinner, “Perhaps it is…what am I doing? What have I been doing?”

She tried changing foods just as before. She changed her routine and scrutinized every detail – to no avail.

Her problem continued to linger.

She had thought that at some point she would grow numb to it. Maybe this was permanent. If so, she may as well get use to it. But that didn’t make things any easier – or better.

As the years passed by, the woman took each new day with a sigh. She had wanted to abandon all hope of ever getting better, yet some tiny part of her still clung to it.

One day a man was in town – a scraggly fellow with quiet, kind eyes. He didn’t look like very much, let alone some one important, but everywhere he went people followed.

There were rumors of sick people being made well and a dead girl who supposedly sat right up in bed when he called her.

“Could it be…,” asked the woman. “Maybe it’s just gossip,” she later decided.

Even so the thought nagged at her. Maybe he could do something. No, no. That’s just crazy…but then again…there was only one way to find out!

The little old lady gathered herself. She pulled back her hair and got dressed. Then out the door she went.

It didn’t take long for her to find the man. She only had to look for a crowd.

But how was she to get past them all? Could she even get his attention in the midst of that group? Perchance she could sneak through – even just for a touch. She would settle for that. If the rumors were true, surely a touch could heal her.

For a moment she thought herself crazy, but swallowing her pride she decided to go for it.

She pushed her way through the crowd ever so slowly – but not on foot. Down on her hands and knees she went while trying to keep her eyes on the man.

With all the pushing, no one seemed to notice her. She’d almost been stepped on at least a couple of times, but at last she was within reach of the man.

Hesitantly she looked up at him as she and the crowd followed him. Even he seemed to be paying no attention to the little old lady down on the ground.

“Here goes,” the woman thought to herself.

In an instant, she reached out and laid hold of the man’s clothing.

Something powerful flowed through her hand, causing the woman to quickly jerk back. The feeling trickled up her arm to her shoulder and into her body. It warmed her heart and suddenly her body felt as never before.

The problem had stopped.

The woman sat baffled as she stared at her hand.

“How did this…,” she muttered when she was caught off guard by the man’s voice.

“Who touched me,” he asked, his eyes scanning the growing crowd.

“What are you talking about,” someone answered.

“Do you not see all these around you,” asked another.

Still the man insisted. “Who touched me?”

The woman shuddered. “Oh no…he knows…!”

She panicked, looking for an easy exit, but the crowd worked against her, keeping her in her place.

The crowd began to mutter among themselves trying to decipher what had been done. Little by little they moved in such a way as to expose the woman.

She knew she would be found out.

She mustered all the courage she could find and pushed her way past the last few people. Still on her knees she answered the man.

“I did,” she said, her eyes cast low to the ground, largely from embarrassment.

Surely he would scold her.

But he only looked down at her and smiled.

Copyright The Faithbook 2012
Photo courtesy of 


2 comments on “She Reached Out

  1. saoirse7freedom
    Oct 28, 2012

    Nicely done!

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In Mosul, ISIS militants marked with a spray-painted ن (the Arabic letter for “N”) all Christian property to be seized after the ultimatum. “N”, or ن​, is the first letter of the Arabic word for Christian, “Nasrani” or Nazarene. #pray4thepersecuted

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