The touch of his healing hand
He was the only one who dared My township rested at the foot of the mountain, a small rural community of low stone houses around a market square. On the outskirts, peaceful sheep and goats grazed on the grassy hills, but no one would employ me. A solitary lesion had spread across my body until my fingers and toes turned white and lost all sensation. No cure existed, and the priest pronounced me ‘unclean.’ To my shame, wherever I roamed, I had to warn everyone of my condition, and they kept their distance, repulsed and disgusted by my hideous disfigurement. Since my family also feared me, I was forced to live outside, blistering in the summer sun and shivering in the c...