The Master’s Touch

She had need of healing power;
Her faith was full and sure.
Then He came, His garment dusty,
His face serene and pure.
Crowds before, around, and after—
Oh, she must get near to Him!
Suddenly a way was opened—
She stooped to touch His hem.
Just a touch, and she was healed;
She stood still, the crowd passed by.
But the Master turned abruptly:
“Who touched me?”
[“Lord, t’was I.”]
Now His gaze was full upon her,
Looking deep into her soul—
“Daughter be of good comfort:
Thy faith hath made thee whole.”

[illustration] Illustrated by Dick Brown