The Tassel - first draft

(I do not write short stories.  I've never been very good at them.  But in an effort to expand my limited writing ability, I will be attempting to compose some short stories.  This is based on the story, found in all the synoptic Gospels, of the woman who touched the hem of Jesus' cloak and was healed of the flow of blood which had plagued her for 12 years.  This story has come up three different times in about as many days, and I was compelled to try my hand. at a story to fill in the blanks.  This is only the first draft. I'll come back to it in a few days and make modifications.  There are some parts I already want to change, but will hold off on any changes until it has sat for awhile.  I'm always ok with comments from my vast readership :-)! )

Four years ago today I was healed. The day is burned into my

memory. I look down at my hand and I remember. I had heard he

was coming through town, and in my hope and desperation went out

to the street. There he was. I was determined to get close...all eyes

were on him; I was not noticed. Had I been recognized the crowd

would have parted like the Red Sea around me, but in the throng

I was invisible. Quietly, I made my way forward and found myself

directly behind him...if I could but touch the hem of his garment. So with

trembling hand I reached and touched the tassel of his cloak.

I felt myself healed instantly. But he stopped, and turned

around...and I was alone in my shame.

I had been alone for 12 years. Anyone or anything I touched would be

legally unclean, so I was left alone, outcast, fending for myself. All the

money I had was spent on doctors, but none were able to help me. I

would be alone, a poor beggar, for the rest of my days. But then I

heard of Jesus, and He seemed an answer to my prayers, so I sought

him out. Finding him, I reached toward him, and my thoughts turned

to Ruth as she stole upon Boaz and settled in at his feet asking him to

cast his mantle over her, to protect her as a kinsman

(Ruth 3).

His tassel within my grasp, I thought of this tassel which was

a reminder of our relationship with YHWH, of His laws and our

obligation to them . . . and I hesitated for a moment, until I

remembered the 1000s of lambs with whose blood my people had

been redeemed from bondage. Was this not what I wanted - to be

redeemed, released from the slavery of my affliction? Could not the

blood of those lambs reach forward to me, and remove my shackles?

Make me whole again, physically and legally and spiritually?

So I gathered my courage and touched the tassel of his cloak,

believing that even this small gesture of faith, done in secret, could

heal me. And it did! Immediately, the flow of blood ceased! I was

healed! But then he asked who had touched him. I was ashamed,

and for a moment I hid. But my courage returned, and I came forward,

trembling and falling at his feet, confessing what I had done and why.

He looked upon me with such tenderness, and said "My daughter, thy

faith has brought thee recovery; go in peace."(Lk 8:48)

I stayed there, kneeling upon the ground, watching as he turned and

disappeared from view. I was not sure what to do.

My heart was leaping inside of me, but I found I could not make my

limbs obey my command. After what seemed hours, I finally rose and

went home. After the prescribed time, I did what was required by the

law for my purification, and then my new life began.

At first many people continued to treat me as if I were still impure. It

still happens today, when from force of habit people around me draw

back so as not to touch me. I will sometimes find that I have returned

to my old habits, then forcefully have to remind myself that I am

healed. Recovering has not been as easy as I had imagined.

My life did not miraculously go back to the way it had been before my

illness. In many ways I had to rebuild my life, find new friends, re-

establish myself in the community.

But one thing which did change dramatically and perhaps

miraculously, was my faith. I saw before me, and I touched the tassel

of, the Messiah, the Savior of my people. Of this I have no doubt. No

one other than the Promised One could have healed me as suddenly

and completely as he did on that day.

And so, on this day I stand here. Professing by my presence my belief

that Jesus was indeed the Son of God. Waiting today with many who

have waited generations to find fulfillment in God's promises. Waiting

to be baptized into the future of our people.