A baby is born with a need to be loved - and never outgrows it.

In the words of Frank A. Clark: “A baby is born with a need to be loved—and never outgrows it.” This truth is eternal, older than kings or empires, older even than the written word itself. For love is not an ornament of life, but its foundation. A baby comes into the world utterly helpless, unable to feed, protect, or comfort itself. From the very first breath, it depends wholly on the embrace of another. And yet, Clark reminds us, this dependence is not cast off with age. Though we learn to walk, to work, to fight, to rule, still the heart hungers for love. It is the one need that does not fade.

The ancients understood this sacred reality. The philosophers of Greece taught that man is by nature a social creature, bound together by affection and community. The prophets of Israel proclaimed that to love one another was the highest command. Even the stern warriors of Rome, who prized discipline and conquest, knew the power of love, for they built their homes and temples upon bonds of family and kinship. A people without love was doomed, no matter how great their armies. Thus, Clark’s words are not new—they echo the wisdom of ages past.

History gives us vivid witness. Consider the story of Mother Teresa, who devoted her life to the poorest of the poor in Calcutta. She gave food, she gave medicine, but above all she gave love—touching the untouchable, embracing the forgotten, reminding them they were not alone. She once said that the greatest poverty is not hunger of the body, but hunger of the heart—the lack of love. Here the truth of Clark’s words shines: whether rich or poor, young or old, the need to be loved remains unbroken until death.

Even the mighty have felt this longing. Napoleon Bonaparte, conqueror of Europe, confessed near the end of his life that all his victories and power were nothing compared to the simple faith and love given to Christ by millions. He ruled empires but could not command hearts. For what are crowns and scepters to a soul that yearns, like every baby, for warmth and tenderness? Clark’s words reveal this humbling truth: no man, no matter how great, can outgrow the need to be loved.

The imagery of the baby is especially powerful. It strips away all illusions of strength or independence, reminding us that at the core, we remain fragile beings. We may grow in knowledge, in power, in wealth, yet the same heartbeat that once cried out for a mother’s embrace still beats within us, longing for connection. Those who deny this hunger deceive themselves, but they cannot silence the truth: the soul starved of love withers, just as surely as the body starved of bread.

The lesson is clear: to live fully, give and receive love freely. Do not mistake it for weakness; it is the highest strength. Raise your children not only with food and shelter, but with tenderness. Treat your companions not only with fairness, but with compassion. Remember that even the sternest elder, the most hardened worker, the most distant stranger—each is still the baby that once cried for warmth, still the soul that never ceased needing love.

Practical action lies before us: tell those around you that you love them, and show it with deeds. Listen more, embrace more, forgive more. Do not hoard affection, for it grows by being given away. And in moments when you yourself feel empty, do not be ashamed of your need. Seek out the embrace of others, for this need is not childish—it is human.

Thus, Frank A. Clark’s words stand as a commandment for every age: from cradle to grave, the need to be loved never ends. To ignore it is to deny our nature. To honor it is to live as we were created to live—bound together, sustained by love, eternal in our longing, and divine in our capacity to give.