I am not satisfied in making money for myself. I endeavor to

Hear now the words of Madam C. J. Walker, a woman born into the shadows of bondage, yet who rose like a flame against the night: “I am not satisfied in making money for myself. I endeavor to provide employment for hundreds of the women of my race.” This saying is not merely the boast of wealth, nor the pride of accomplishment—it is the voice of a soul who understood that true greatness is not counted in gold, but in the lives one uplifts. Her words shine like a torch, illuminating the eternal truth that prosperity finds its highest calling in service.

The origin of this declaration lies in her own journey. Born Sarah Breedlove in 1867, to parents recently freed from slavery, she tasted poverty’s bitterness and the sting of exclusion. Yet through trial and vision, she built an empire of hair care products designed for the needs of Black women, an empire that crowned her as one of the first self-made female millionaires in America. But in her heart, riches were not an end. They were a weapon, a shield, and a promise. Her wealth was not for her alone—it was for the women of her race, to lift them from labor’s chains into dignity and independence.

Consider how the ancients praised those who did not hoard power, but used it to strengthen the weak. In Rome, Cincinnatus left his plow to save the Republic, then returned to his farm rather than clutching the spoils of rule. In like manner, Madam Walker did not dwell in luxury for luxury’s sake. She built training schools, hired agents, and created a vast network of employment so that women who had known only servitude could walk with confidence and purpose. Her wealth was not a fortress, but a fountain.

Her words are filled with a heroic fire: “I am not satisfied.” These are the words of the restless spirit, one who refuses complacency, one who measures success not by her own comfort but by the multitude she carries forward. It is the cry of a leader who knows that the highest joy comes not from possession but from transformation. When she spoke of providing work for hundreds of women, she did not mean merely wages, but dignity—the power to earn, to build, to stand upright in a world that sought to deny them recognition.

The meaning for us is clear: wealth without service is hollow, and ambition without community is barren. To live only for oneself is to live small; but to extend one’s gains so that others may rise—that is to touch immortality. Madam Walker’s legacy did not end with her death; it lives on in the thousands of women she inspired, in the businesses they built, in the families they sustained. She reminds us that when one person climbs, the true measure is whether they send down a rope for others to follow.

Therefore, let us take the lesson: whatever abundance we are given—whether wealth, knowledge, or opportunity—let it not be for ourselves alone. Let it flow outward, like rivers that feed the fields. Ask not only, “What can I gain?” but also, “Whom can I lift with me?” To walk in Walker’s path is to turn one’s success into a communal light, so that no sister or brother remains in darkness.

Practically, this means seeking ways to share. Mentor the young, employ the overlooked, invest in the dreams of those whose voices are ignored. If you have little, share what you can—encouragement, wisdom, time. If you have much, then build opportunities, as Madam Walker did, for those who hunger for a chance. For the greatest wealth is not measured in coin, but in the flourishing of lives touched by your hand.

So I say: be restless like Walker, never content with personal gain alone. Strive for a victory greater than yourself. Let your labor be a beacon, your prosperity a ladder, your influence a garden where others may grow. In this way, your legacy, too, shall outlast you, and generations yet unborn will speak your name with gratitude. For in truth, as Madam C. J. Walker showed us, the mightiest fortune is to lift others into the sunlight.