I want to help others smile and be kind as often as possible.

Hear the words of Ainsley Harriott, a man whose laughter and warmth have filled kitchens and homes: “I want to help others smile and be kind as often as possible.” At first glance, these words may appear simple, even ordinary. But within them is a vision of how one life may ripple into many, how a single heart, devoted to lifting others, can bring joy to a weary world. For in Harriott’s declaration lies the secret of greatness: not in conquering, not in gathering riches, but in spreading kindness like seed and leaving behind a harvest of joy.

The origin of this wisdom lies in the oldest truth of humanity—that joy shared multiplies, and kindness given returns tenfold. Since the beginning, communities have thrived not by power alone, but by mutual care. A fire shared kept the tribe alive; bread broken among neighbors kept famine at bay; a warm smile told the stranger, “You are safe here.” Harriott’s words are a modern echo of this ancient truth: to help another smile, to act with kindness, is to continue the work that has always bound human beings together.

The ancients spoke of this often. In Greece, they told of hospitality—xenia—where the guest was treated as sacred, for the gods might walk in human form. In the East, Confucius taught that the noble man was measured not by power, but by his kindness toward others. And in the Scriptures of many faiths, the smile is a blessing, the light of a soul reaching out to another. To “help others smile,” then, is to participate in this ancient river of goodness, carrying forward the heritage of compassion.

History gives us a striking image in the life of St. Francis of Assisi. He had no throne, no armies, no riches. Yet he went about barefoot, greeting all with peace, offering warmth to lepers, and even speaking gently to animals. His words and actions caused countless others to smile, not because their burdens were gone, but because they felt loved, seen, and cherished. He changed the world not through might, but through an abundance of kindness—a path not unlike the one Harriott speaks of walking.

Harriott’s teaching also contains an urgency: “as often as possible.” He reminds us that kindness is not to be reserved for grand gestures, for rare occasions, or for those who “deserve” it. Rather, it must become a daily practice, woven into every encounter—a greeting, a word of encouragement, a laugh shared across the table. Each act may seem small, but together they form a fortress of light against the darkness of indifference and cruelty.

The meaning is profound: we cannot control the great storms of the world, but we can choose how we meet the people before us. We can choose the smile, the gentle word, the open heart. And often, these small gestures are more powerful than we imagine. A single smile to the lonely, a single moment of kindness to the weary, may be remembered for a lifetime, may even save a soul from despair. This is the quiet heroism Harriott points us toward.

Therefore, beloved, let this be your practice: rise each morning with the intention to smile, not for yourself alone, but to bring light to others. Seek opportunities to be kind—to friends, to strangers, even to those who are difficult. For in doing so, you become part of something greater: the unbroken chain of humanity’s compassion. And when your days are told, it will not be the wealth you gained nor the power you wielded that endures, but the countless smiles you inspired and the moments of kindness you gave. This, truly, is the mark of a life well-lived.