There were ten of us there that day. Each of us needed healing from the leprosy that ravaged our bodies. We were outcasts...society didn't want us. In fact, we were ordered to stay away from the public and forced to cry out "unclean, unclean" if anyone approached us. Then, we saw this man. He didn't avoid us like the rest, in fact, He came forward and called to us. We saw that it was Jesus. We had heard of this man. Some said He was the Messiah. Others said a great teacher. But, one thing they all agreed on was the fact that He had a healing touch. That's what we needed, so we cried out, "Have mercy on us."

I'll never forget what happened next. He told us to go show ourselves to the priests. That could only mean one thing, we were going to be healed! We all looked at each other in disbelief and my friend turned and started towards the temple. We all followed, excitedly discussing the possibility of being cleansed.

Then, it happened. We hadn't gone very far and I felt kind of warm, even tingly. I could scarcely believe my eyes! My skin dried up. I was healed. I looked in disbelief at the others and they too were clean. It was a miracle! This man, Jesus, He WAS a healer!

My friend turned around and headed back. We called out, "Where are you going?" He said, "I'm going to thank Him. I'm going to thank Jesus." I thought about turning around and going with him, but then one of our group said, "I'm not going to thank Him until I make sure that this healing is permanent.

I might get leprosy again tomorrow, for all I know." The others murmured in agreement. "We would have been healed anyway," another spoke up. "Yeah, we suffered enough, we were owed a blessing."

"But, don't you see, Jesus healed us. He is the one who.." I was interrupted immediately. "You are the one who doesn't see," another man said roughly. "I've got to get home and tell my family and friends the good news. I've got to make up for lost time. Maybe I can get my old job back."

"Yeah, let's throw a party tonight." a younger man said.

"But, don't you think we should at least thank Jesus," I continued.

"Thanks, shmanks," the younger man said. "Jesus knows that we appreciate it, now let's move on."

It shames me to say it, but I never went back that day. In fact, I never did say "thanks." I got so caught up in the healing and the comments of the others and wanting to start my life over that I never did tell the healer, Jesus, that I was grateful He came my way on that day. I never told Him how much I appreciated Him taking a chance on me. I never told Him how much His blessing meant to my life and to the lives of my family and friends. I never told Him how new I felt and how He changed my life that day.

That's gratitude for ya.