adapted from John 9:1-38 by Kimsey C. Wade

The Sabbath day began as usual for me. I’m known simply as "the man born blind." My parents still call me by name, but I’m another blind beggar to everyone else.

Begging on the Sabbath was usually good. The religious leaders liked to create a show in giving their money to the needy. But I didn’t enjoy the crowds they gathered around me or the way they called me "pitiful, sinful creature."

Frankly, I thanked God I couldn’t see their faces. Being blind limited my career choices to begging. No other jobs existed for a blind man in Jerusalem.

As I sat at the temple gate, I heard a group coming. They directed their questions to someone they called "Teacher."

Good, I thought. This man will make a big demonstration in giving.

I turned toward them with my hand extended.

"Money for the blind!" I begged.

The crowd stopped.

"Master," one asked, "did this man or his parents sin to cause his blindness?"

I’d heard this question all my life. People debated whether physical handicaps resulted from sin of the parents or from sin the baby committed in the mother’s womb. I waited for the reply.

"Neither," the Teacher said. "This happened so God’s work will be displayed and He’ll be honored."

"We’ve never heard this teaching before," the shocked disciples muttered to each other.

Who is this man? I thought.

The Teacher scooped a handful of dust from the pathway and spat in it. He rubbed the muddy paste on my eyes.

"Go wash in the pool," He said.

Not knowing what else to do, I went. I washed. And the impossible happened—I saw! For the first time in my life, I saw the luscious green leaves of the fig trees, the deep blue of the water and the fluffy white clouds sailing in the sky.

"I can see!" I shouted over and over.

You can imagine the stir this caused.

"He’s the one born blind," some said.

"No, he just looks like him," others said.

"It’s me," I cried. "It’s really me!"

They grabbed me and took me to the temple.

Great, I thought, we’re going to praise God together!

Boy, was I wrong. They drug me inside and told the religious leaders what had happened.

"Tell us yourself," the chief priest said.

"The Teacher, named Jesus, put mud on my eyes," I said. "He told me to wash in the pool. When I did, I could see!"

"Where’s this man, Jesus?" the priest demanded.

Why aren’t they rejoicing over this miracle? I wondered. Their murmuring about Jesus breaking a Sabbath rule confused me.

"I don’t know," I replied. "I’ve never seen Him. I wouldn’t know Him if we bumped into each other on the street."

They ordered my mother and father to the temple. The hostile atmosphere terrified my parents.

"Is this your son?" the priest asked.

"Yes, he’s our son," Dad replied.

"Was he born blind?"

"He’s been blind since birth," Dad said. "We don’t know anything about his cure. He’s an adult; ask him."

Poor Mom and Dad. They wanted to celebrate with me, but the fury of the leaders scared them. They could be thrown out of the community if the priest desired.

"Give glory to God!" the priest shouted at me. "As for this teacher, we know he’s a sinner."

I couldn’t believe my ears.

"I don’t know if He is a sinner or not," I responded. "I do know I was blind, but now I see!"

"What did he do?" they demanded. "How did he make you see?"

"I’ve told you, but you didn’t listen," I said. "Why tell you again? Do you want to become His disciples, too?"

They hurled insults at me. I’d heard all I could stand. They refused to recognize the miracle. How could they be so blind?

"This is amazing," I said. "You don’t know anything about Him, yet He healed me! We’ve all been taught God doesn’t listen to sinners. He listens to those who do His will. Nobody has ever heard of a man born blind being cured. If Jesus wasn’t from God, He couldn’t have done it."

The priests rushed me from all sides, tearing at my clothes and shouting curses. They dragged me outside the temple gates and barred me from ever entering again.

I wandered around not knowing what to do. The whole city should be worshipping God right now instead of cursing Jesus, I thought.

"Do you believe in the Son of God?" a man asked as I walked by.

"Who is He, Sir?" I asked wearily. "I want to believe."

"It’s Me," he replied gently. "I’m the one who healed you."

Of course, I thought. I recognize the voice. It’s Jesus!

"Lord, I believe!" I cried. I fell to my knees and worshipped Him.

Jesus took my hand and lifted me to my feet. He smiled.

"Come," He said.

What a day. My blindness gone. But more importantly, my eyes opened to God’s truth!

	Q: What did one lightbulb say to the other one? A: “Watt are you doing?” Charles R., 10, Georgia Clubhouse Jr. Click here to subscribe