I know that I always wanted things. I was always proud of my

Hear now the words of Dolly Parton, a woman whose voice has carried both song and soul through the ages: “I know that I always wanted things. I was always proud of my people, proud of my home, but I always wanted more. I think most people do.” In these words lies a truth that speaks not only of ambition, but of longing, of the eternal flame within the human heart that seeks to rise beyond the boundaries of circumstance. Her voice does not boast of greed—it whispers of hunger, the sacred hunger that calls the spirit toward its destiny.

The origin of this saying is rooted in Dolly Parton’s own life—a story as humble as it is heroic. Born in the misty hills of Tennessee, among a family of twelve children, she grew up in poverty, yet surrounded by love. Her pride in her people and her home was deep and unwavering, but even as a child she looked to the horizon and felt the pull of something greater. Her songs, her words, her life’s journey—all spring from that same yearning: to honor where she came from while answering the call of what she could become. This is not merely the story of one woman—it is the story of all who dare to dream beyond the borders of their beginnings.

In every age, the ancients spoke of this duality—the balance between contentment and aspiration. The farmer must love his land, yet still reach toward the stars. The artist must cherish his roots, yet hunger to create something eternal. So too does Dolly’s wisdom remind us that it is no sin to want more, if that desire grows not from envy, but from purpose. To “want more” is to awaken the divine spark within, the same spark that moved explorers to cross oceans, poets to write their verses, and dreamers to build the world anew.

Consider the tale of Abraham Lincoln, born in a log cabin with nothing but his mind and will to guide him. He loved his humble beginnings and never forgot the soil from which he sprang. Yet he, too, “wanted more”—not for himself alone, but for justice, for unity, for the betterment of humankind. His ascent from poverty to the presidency was not a rejection of his roots, but the fulfillment of their promise. In his rise, as in Parton’s, we see the sacred dance of gratitude and ambition, each holding the other in balance.

Dolly’s words, though gentle, carry a deeper fire: they remind us that the desire for more is the heartbeat of growth. The tree that does not reach for sunlight withers; the soul that ceases to strive begins to fade. Yet one must remember—wanting more is not about possession, but about becoming. True greatness is not measured in gold or fame, but in the courage to follow the calling of the heart, even when the path is steep and the world does not yet believe in you.

The lesson, therefore, is twofold. First, be proud of your origins—the people, the places, and the struggles that shaped you. They are your foundation, your story, your song. Second, do not let that pride become a chain. Let it be the root from which your wings grow. To want more is not to betray where you came from, but to honor it through the fullness of what you make of yourself. For every dream realized lifts not only the dreamer, but all those who share their name, their soil, their memory.

So, children of tomorrow, remember this wisdom: gratitude is your anchor, ambition your sail. Be proud of your home, but do not let comfort lull your spirit to sleep. The stars belong to those who reach for them, but the reaching is sweetest when it begins with reverence. For as Dolly Parton herself has shown through a lifetime of song, it is possible to love your roots and still rise toward the heavens—to carry your home within your heart while walking boldly into the unknown. In this, you will find not only greatness, but wholeness.