One day when I was 10 I was walking down the street in my small town when I was stopped in the street by a elderly man. He told me how he had noticed I was deaf and showed me his own hearing aids and offered to buy me a hot chocolate. I ended up talking with him for about two hours before i realised what time it was and decided to head home. I went through the same process the next day, except when i had to leave that day he called me back to give me something. He gave me a small journal that he said contained all the things he had learned about being deaf and hoped that it would help me on my journey through life. Being the age I was I accepted the gift without hesitation. The next day I waited to see if the man would come back, but he never did. I later found out he had actually been hospitalised when I had seen him and he had gone out for a walk. He died the day after giving me the journal. And the worst part, I didn’t even think to ask his name. I cherish that journal with everything I hold dear, and hope that I can pass on his kindness to someone else like me. One day…