Author's Note: This story came to me when I was at youth group tonight. Just a short about what the blind man may have been thinking and experiencing. Please enjoy!

There was nothing special that day. It began as every other day of my wretched life. I woke and made my way to the gate of the city where I could beg. You see, I'm blind and thus can do nothing else. Needless to say, my life was about to be turned upside down. But there, I am getting ahead of myself. As I was saying, I made my way to the gate and sat down in my normal spot, setting my cup next to me. It was hot that day. I could feel the sun beating down on me, and could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on. I usually got bad headaches during hot days. It was a rather slow day…not many coming or going. By mid-afternoon, I had only gathered a few coins.

I leaned up against the wall of the gate, resting. My eyes began to drift closed. Suddenly I heard a group of people coming towards the gate. I sat up straighter, hoping—praying they would take notice of me. Indeed they did, though not in the way I wanted.

"Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" I heard one man ask. Did they think I was deaf, that I could not hear them? I closed my eyes, refusing to listen anymore. However the man's answer caused my head to snap his direction.

"Neither this man nor his parents sinned," said Jesus, "but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life. As long as it is day, we must do the work of him who sent me. Night is coming, when no one can work. While I am in the world, I am the light of the world." The man replied, his voice soft but stern.

I had never heard anyone speak that way before…or about me. Who is he? I wondered, cocking my head to listen better. Then I heard him spit rather close to me. I recoiled, shame burning on my face. Suddenly he knelt beside me. I could hear him mixing his fingers in the dirt.

What is he doing? I thought, frowning. Then he leaned over to me, grasping my head firmly in one hand. With the other, he wiped mud on both my eyes. I flushed in anger and embarrassment. Was this the same man who had just spoken those words about me!

Go," he told me, "wash in the Pool of Siloam."

I stood and walked as quickly as I could, feeling the cold mud on my eyes. I had half a mind to just wipe off the mud myself, but a nagging feeling told me to do what the man said. After several minutes, I arrived at the Pool. Groping my way to it, I knelt down and cupped the water in both my hands. I drew it up and splashed my eyes, rubbing slightly to get the mud off.

In the middle of my motions, I froze, blinking. Light flashed before my eyes and…colours. I blinked, my eyes going wide as I saw my fingers. Slowly I raised my head and in wonder perceived the sky. I held my hands in front of me, flexing my fingers in amazement. I saw the Pool, its water sparkling in the sunlight—like a thousand jewels in the water.

I stumbled my way back towards the gate, straining to take in everything I saw. There were the market booths with their hundreds of products. I smiled, an amazed wonderful smile. I hardly knew what to do, my eyes straining to catch a glimpse of everything around me.

I found the Man who had healed me, and I worshipped Him. My friends did not recognize me, nor did they believe I was the same man. Why should they? Miracles do not happen anymore, or so I thought—especially to a beggar like me. But I knew better…I was blind, and now I see.