And wherever he went, to villages, cities, or the countryside, they would lay the sick in the marketplaces and beg him to let the sick touch even the fringe of his garment. And all who touched it were healed.
As she stood behind him at his feet, weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with the hair of her head, kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment.
Now there was a woman who had suffered from a flow of blood for twelve years, and even though she had spent her entire livelihood on physicians, she could not be healed by anyone.
Then Jesus said, “Who touched me?” When everyone denied it, Peter and those who were with him said, “Master, the crowds are surrounding yoʋ and pressing against yoʋ, and yet yoʋ say, ‘Who touched me?’ ”
As a result, people carried the sick out into the streets and laid them on beds and mats, so that when Peter came by at least his shadow might fall on one of them.