Eventually I booked a 2-line role on a show called 'JAG' and

When Samuel Witwer declares, “Eventually I booked a 2-line role on a show called ‘JAG’ and slowly the parts got bigger and better. I’m very thankful that I had to appreciate how difficult the business is before I had any kind of success,” he gives voice to a timeless truth: that greatness often begins in the smallest of places, and that the soil of hardship prepares the harvest of triumph. His words are not only a remembrance of humble beginnings, but a testimony to the sacred discipline of patience, endurance, and humility in the face of long struggle.

The origin of his gratitude lies in his early career as an actor, where he began not with starring roles, but with the smallest fragments—a two-line role on JAG. For many, such a start might feel insignificant, even discouraging. Yet Witwer looks back and speaks with thankfulness, for it was through that humble beginning that he came to understand how demanding, how unforgiving, and how relentless the craft of acting truly is. He learned that success does not arrive as a gift, but as the hard-won fruit of persistence.

This wisdom echoes through the ages. Consider the story of Leonardo da Vinci, who before painting the Last Supper or the Mona Lisa, spent years apprenticed under Verrocchio, painting only minor details in the works of his master—angels in the corners, drapery folds, small touches invisible to most eyes. And yet, it was in those modest contributions that Leonardo’s genius was honed, until at last he stepped into the fullness of his power. Like Witwer’s two-line role, these beginnings were not glorious, but they were essential.

There is humility in Witwer’s reflection, for he does not scorn his early struggles nor rush to erase them. Instead, he embraces them as necessary teachers. The difficulty of the business, he says, was something he had to learn before success could be entrusted to him. Without that grounding, fame might have inflated him, or the weight of responsibility might have broken him. His thankfulness shows us that struggle is not the enemy of success—it is its guardian, ensuring that only those who endure are ready to hold its crown.

This lesson is heroic in its simplicity: the small beginnings are not to be despised, for they are the proving ground of the soul. Just as the soldier begins with training before battle, just as the musician practices scales before symphonies, so too does the actor begin with fragments before roles of greatness. Each humble step is part of the path, and each trial deepens the strength to endure.

We too must learn this discipline. In our own lives, when success seems slow, when beginnings seem small, let us not despair. Instead, let us be thankful for the struggle, knowing that it shapes us into vessels strong enough to bear success when it comes. The mountain is not climbed in one leap, but in many small steps, each demanding effort and perseverance. To honor those steps, no matter how small, is to honor the journey itself.

Practical wisdom follows: embrace your humble beginnings, and see them as teachers. Be diligent in small tasks, for they prepare you for greater ones. When you encounter difficulty, remind yourself that this hardship is not wasted—it is tempering you like steel in the fire. And above all, cultivate gratitude, for thankfulness turns even struggle into blessing, and transforms even small victories into seeds of greatness.

Thus, in the words of Samuel Witwer, we are reminded of an eternal truth: that the path to greatness begins in obscurity, and that the trials we endure before success are gifts that prepare us for the weight of what lies ahead. Let us, therefore, walk with patience, endure with courage, and live with thankfulness, knowing that each step—no matter how small—brings us closer to the fullness of our destiny.