John Howard’ s parents had always tried to help charitable organizations and young orphans to live a better life in whatever way they can; his mother had raised him in a way that he knew about the terrible things that could happen to people physically and emotionally and make them mentally different in terms of living their lives, as compared to others. John was thus in the habit of doing little things like donating his old clothes and always taking food for orphans on festive occasions. These habits had been inculcated within him so deep that somehow, looking at that young child in that cafe that day, struck a chord inside him.
His gut feeling was urging him to join the social service unit in order to interact with differently abled children and understand how they lived lives. Looking at that young boy helped John realize that the life that he had been given was something extremely precious – even on the most mundane of his days, John was more privileged than so many other children out there who did not even have decent means of education and play time.
John wanted to make a difference, it was his calling. He went back to school the next day and immediately became a part of the bandwagon of a few children interested in helping children with special needs and attention around the city. After much pleading and signing petitions, ensuring that at least ten more students joined by the end of the school day and inspiring people to help children in need, John and his new group of mates were able to keep the club alive.
With time, they fixed certain field trips where they visited children from various schools; some of them were blind, some deaf, and some were physically handicapped. However, throughout the time that he was part of the club, the fondest memory that he has, is of meeting a young boy by the name of Austin, who was autistic, just like the child that John had met in the cafe the other day.
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