When I was fourteen years old, I was hit by a car. I remember nothing about the accident. I just remember waking up in the hospital afterwards. I remember seeing my mother sitting in the hall outside the hospital room. I wanted to go to her, but no matter how hard I tried, I would always stumble and fall. I had a big stripe of a scar on my side, and my legs were no longer sturdy. This would stun anyone, and of course I began to cry. My parents and doctors explained that a string of nerves in my spine had been damaged, and I had been disabled. I felt like my life was over.
After a few weeks, I went back to school. You can’t imagine how difficult that day was for me, I was the subject of hundreds of secret whispers. When I got home, I begged my parents to let me stay home from school, but they would not submit. However, due to a lucky strike, I had a substitute gym teacher. Mr. Jenkins was a stubborn man and would not let me read during gym class like the old teacher. He gave me special exercises to do and made me stroll around the gym, I didn’t want to do the exercises at first, but in the subsequent weeks, I noticed that my stride was becoming less painful. I went to Mr. Jenkins and told him what I’d noticed. He was very happy, and every day he worked with me, helping me to make myself stronger, and teaching me ways to stretch myself.
He even taught me how to submerge me legs in special baths to help the muscles. Meeting him was a great stroke of luck. One afternoon Mr. Jenkins told me about the Paralympic Games. The International Paralympic Committee is an organization which strives to help people with disabilities become physically fit.
Many people subscribe money to them, and sometimes they might get a subsidy from the government. They ran athletic clubs for disabled people.
That weekend my teacher took me to the local Paralympic Games’ training club, located next to a strip of busy stores and offices. There were dozens of disabled children, laughing and playing with all different kinds of sports stuff. From that day on, the training club became my favorite place. They brought substance back into my life, and taught me that I wasn’t subordinate in any way. Who knows, maybe some day I’ll get in the Olympics!
After a few weeks, I went back to school. You can’t imagine how difficult that day was for me, I was the subject of hundreds of secret whispers. When I got home, I begged my parents to let me stay home from school, but they would not submit. However, due to a lucky strike, I had a substitute gym teacher. Mr. Jenkins was a stubborn man and would not let me read during gym class like the old teacher. He gave me special exercises to do and made me stroll around the gym, I didn’t want to do the exercises at first, but in the subsequent weeks, I noticed that my stride was becoming less painful. I went to Mr. Jenkins and told him what I’d noticed. He was very happy, and every day he worked with me, helping me to make myself stronger, and teaching me ways to stretch myself.
He even taught me how to submerge me legs in special baths to help the muscles. Meeting him was a great stroke of luck. One afternoon Mr. Jenkins told me about the Paralympic Games. The International Paralympic Committee is an organization which strives to help people with disabilities become physically fit.
Many people subscribe money to them, and sometimes they might get a subsidy from the government. They ran athletic clubs for disabled people.
That weekend my teacher took me to the local Paralympic Games’ training club, located next to a strip of busy stores and offices. There were dozens of disabled children, laughing and playing with all different kinds of sports stuff. From that day on, the training club became my favorite place. They brought substance back into my life, and taught me that I wasn’t subordinate in any way. Who knows, maybe some day I’ll get in the Olympics!