As soon as Jesus had returned by boat to the other shore, a great crowd once more gathered around him. While he was by the lakeside, the president of one of the synagogues came up, Jairus by name, and when he saw him, threw himself down at his feet and pleaded with him. “My little daughter,” he said, “is at death’s door. I beg you to come and lay your hands on her to cure her and save her life.” So Jesus went with him, accompanied by a great multitude which pressed upon him.
Among them was a woman who had suffered from hemorrhages for twelve years; and in spite of long treatment by doctors, on which she had spent all she had, there had been no improvement; on the contrary, she had grown worse.
She had heard what people were saying about Jesus; so she came up from behind in the crowd and touched his cloak, for she said to herself, “If I touch even his clothes, I shall be cured.” And then and there the source of her hemorrhages dried up and she knew in herself she was cured of her trouble.
At the same time Jesus, aware that power had gone out of him, turned around in the crowd and asked, “Who touched my clothes?”
His disciples said to him, “You see the crowd pressing upon you and yet you ask, ‘Who touched me?’ “
Meanwhile he was looking around to see who had done it. And the woman, trembling with fear when she grasped what was happening to her, came and fell at his feet and told him the whole truth.
He said to her, “My daughter, your faith has cured you. Go in peace, free forever of this trouble.”