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Spends Sunday afternoons doing his part.
In Melbourne’s quiet rooms filled with play,
He helps little kids find joy in the day.
Small hands, loud laughs, bright eyes that roam,
He gives them a space that feels like home.
Not for praise, not glory or fame—
Just kindness that always stays the same.
And I think the world, rough as it can be,
Gets softer somehow with friends like he.
⢸⢹⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⡞⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⣉⣣⡄⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡴⠒⠒⠒⠦⣄⢠⠖⠉⠉⠀⣀⡧⠤⠂⠂⠀
⢸⠀⣇⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⣇⠀⠀⠀⠘⠦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠷⣄⣀⣀⣀⡽⠸⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⡟⢦⠀⠀⠀
⠘⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠒⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⠄⠀⠀⡇⠀⠙⡆
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⢀⡠⠖⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠢⣄⠀⠀⠀⢀⠼⠤⠇
⠀⠀⠀⣀⠔⠊⠁⠀⢨⠏⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⣶⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⣄⡴⠃
⢸⣉⠿⣁⠀⠀⠀⢀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣽⣿⣼⡠⠤⢄⣀⠀⠀⢱
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⢦⡀⢸⠀⠀⠀⡠⠒⠒⠚⠛⠉⠀⢠⣀⡌⠳⡀⡌
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⣆⠀⢰⠁⣀⣀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠈⡽⣧⢀⡷⠁
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡤⢄⠀⠈⠢⣸⣄⢽⣞⡂⠀⠈⠁⣀⡜⠁⣩⡷⠿⠆
⠀⠀⠀⠀⢯⣁⡸⠀⠀⠀⡬⣽⣿⡀⠙⣆⡸⠛⠠⢧⠀⡿⠯⠆
⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡀⠀⠀⡤⠤⣵⠁⢸⣻⡤⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⠀⠀⠀⡊⠱⣀
⠀⠀⢀⠜⠀⢘⠀⠀⠱⠲⢜⣢⣤⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢴⠇⠀⠀⠀⠧⠠⠜
⠀⠀⠘⠤⠤⠚⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠁⠁⠀⣀⠎⠀⠻⡀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠣⣀⣀⡴⠤⠄⠴⠁