On the road toward Jerusalem, between Samaria and Galilee,

Ten men marked by leprosy stood far enough to plead.

They lifted up their voices from the distance law required,

Calling Jesus Master, asking mercy through the mire.

He saw them where they stood and sent them toward the priests,

No cleansing yet upon them, only words and moving feet.

They turned to go as they were told,

And somewhere on the way,

Skin once marked by sickness cleared,

And ten received the day.

Where are the nine?

Ten were cleansed along the road.

Where are the nine?

Only one came back from going.

One loud voice gave glory,

One face fell at His feet,

And the one who turned in gratitude

Was the stranger, a Samaritan.

He saw that he was healed and turned before the journey's end,

Glorifying God aloud, retracing every step again.

He fell down at Jesus' feet and thanked Him where He stood,

A stranger in the eyes of many, yet returning as he should.

Jesus asked if ten were cleansed and where the other nine had gone,

Why no others turned to glorify God except this foreign one.

All ten received the cleansing,

All ten had heard the word,

All ten walked toward the priests

And saw the healing occur.

But gratitude made one man

Turn around before the sign was old,

And faith was named beside him

As he rose and took the road.

Where are the nine?

Ten were cleansed along the road.

Where are the nine?

Only one came back from going.

One loud voice gave glory,

One face fell at His feet.

He rose and went his way made whole,

With thanksgiving made complete.