He who loves with purity considers not the gift of the lover, but

When Thomas à Kempis wrote, “He who loves with purity considers not the gift of the lover, but the love of the giver,” he spoke as one who had tasted the stillness of divine truth. A monk and mystic of the fifteenth century, Thomas lived not for worldly honors but for spiritual awakening. His words, drawn from the quiet depths of contemplation, remind us that true love is measured not by what is given, but by the spirit in which it is offered. In an age obsessed with possessions and appearances, his voice still calls across the centuries — to return to the essence of love: the heart.

In this wisdom lies a profound teaching: that pure love seeks nothing in return. It does not weigh the value of the gift, nor count the cost of sacrifice. To love with purity is to see beyond form — to recognize the intent, the tenderness, and the truth behind the gesture. The smallest gift, if born of genuine affection, outweighs treasures given from pride or obligation. Such love reflects the divine, for even the Creator, Thomas teaches, values not our offerings, but the love with which they are made. When one gives with purity, they participate in the eternal — for love given freely is love that never dies.

The ancients, too, knew this secret. The wise of every age taught that love’s worth lies in sincerity, not grandeur. In the Scriptures, a poor widow’s two small coins were deemed greater than the lavish offerings of the rich, for she gave from the fullness of her heart. The Buddha spoke of right intention — that the heart behind an act sanctifies it. And the mystics of Sufism taught that God is pleased not with abundance, but with devotion. Love purified of selfishness becomes a form of worship; it reveals the giver’s soul more clearly than gold or words ever could.

History offers luminous examples of this truth. Consider St. Francis of Assisi, who renounced wealth to live among the poor. His gifts were not material, but radiant with love — a word of comfort, a song of praise, a moment of compassion. When he kissed the leper’s hand, that act, though small, carried infinite beauty, for it was given without fear or reward. In that moment, Francis embodied Thomas’s wisdom: he looked not to what he might gain, but to the love he could give, pure and unmeasured. His life became a living sermon — proof that the greatest gifts are those woven with the threads of love itself.

Yet, how easily the human heart forgets this! We are drawn to the glitter of gifts, the weight of coins, the grand gesture that flatters the ego. But Thomas à Kempis warns us that when love becomes a transaction, it ceases to be love. To love purely is to love without condition, without possession, without calculation. It is to see the giver — their effort, their longing, their kindness — and cherish the heart behind the hand. This is not a lesson of sentimentality, but of spiritual maturity. For the one who loves with purity does not depend on the world’s recognition; their joy is complete in the act of loving itself.

To live by this teaching is to practice gratitude of the soul. It means receiving gifts — whether a smile, a helping hand, or a sacrifice — not by their outward value, but by the invisible grace that moves within them. It also means giving with a heart untainted by pride or expectation. The truest love gives silently, not to be seen, but to uplift. It does not ask, “What will I gain?” but says, “May this bring light.” In such love lies freedom — for the one who loves purely is no longer a merchant of affection, but a bearer of divine light.

So, my child, remember this: seek not the gift, but the love behind it. When you give, give from the heart; when you receive, look for the soul that offers. The smallest gesture, if born of love, carries the power to transform. Cherish sincerity over splendor, intention over appearance, compassion over comfort. Love not to possess, but to bless — and your life will overflow with meaning.

Thus, as Thomas à Kempis teaches, “He who loves with purity considers not the gift of the lover, but the love of the giver.” This is the wisdom of the ancients, the path of saints and poets alike. For in the end, the gift fades, the gold tarnishes, the words are forgotten — but love, pure and selfless, endures beyond the grave. Love is the only treasure whose value increases when given away, and the only miracle that reveals not the worth of things, but the worth of the soul.