I was playing my flute in the city square when I first saw him—a boy named Tommy, who was captivated by my music. His mother, exhausted from carrying him everywhere due to his disability, listened with quiet hope in her eyes. Tommy’s wish to play touched me, but when he admitted he couldn’t walk due to the pain, I saw my own struggles reflected in them.
After learning that they couldn’t afford a wheelchair, I made a decision. I gave them my own, a gift that had helped me survive. Tommy’s joy and his mother’s gratitude were more than enough thanks. I watched them leave, feeling the weight of my own sacrifice.
Five years passed, and my condition worsened without the wheelchair, but I kept playing. Then, one day, Tommy returned—he was walking, his health treated thanks to an inheritance. He brought me a flute case, but inside were stacks of money and a note of thanks for changing their lives.
I sat there, thinking of the pain I’d endured, but also of Tommy’s smile. In that moment, I knew every sacrifice had been worth it. One act of kindness can change everything.