If you're able to help some people and make them smile and make

Hear now the words of Maria Sharapova, a champion upon the courts yet also a seeker of higher truths, who declared: “If you’re able to help some people and make them smile and make them realize that life is good, then that’s worth so much more than buying a pair of shoes.” This utterance, born not of victory shouts or the roar of crowds, but of reflection, carries the fragrance of wisdom: that true worth is not found in possessions, but in the lifting of hearts.

For the ancients taught that wealth is like sand upon the shore—grains slipping through the fingers, never able to fill the hollow of the soul. A fine cloak, a gilded jewel, or, in Sharapova’s age, a pair of splendid shoes—these may adorn the body, but they cannot heal the spirit. To awaken joy in another, to spark a smile, to remind them that life is good despite its wounds—this is a treasure that does not rust, fade, or vanish. It is a gift that multiplies as it is shared.

Consider the tale of Florence Nightingale, the Lady with the Lamp. In the dark halls of war hospitals, she had no riches to offer the broken soldiers under her care. She could not restore limbs, nor undo pain, nor promise long years of peace. But she brought kindness, a gentle word, a smile that told them they were still human, still worthy of dignity. And those small offerings of light carried more value than gold, for they gave men the strength to endure. Such is the eternal truth: that love given to another outweighs treasures gathered for oneself.

Sharapova’s words remind us also of the hollowness of endless consumption. The world cries out with the temptation of more—more clothes, more gold, more shoes. Yet how quickly the thrill fades, and how quickly the hunger grows again! But when one invests in kindness, when one lifts another soul from despair to hope, the satisfaction does not vanish. It carves itself into the memory of both giver and receiver, a flame that endures beyond the marketplace of desire.

And what is this smile she speaks of, if not the outward sign of inward healing? It is not merely the curving of lips, but the softening of the heart. To give another person cause to smile is to remind them that the weight they bear is not eternal, that somewhere in the storm there is still light. To give such a gift is to participate in the renewal of life itself, far beyond the shallow pleasures of material things.

But let no one mistake her words for scorn of beauty or disdain of simple goods. A pair of shoes may indeed protect the feet and carry a traveler far. Yet Sharapova reminds us of proportion: possessions are tools, but joy shared is destiny. Wealth is fleeting, but compassion is eternal. The wise do not despise possessions, but they refuse to measure their lives by them.

Therefore, O seeker, walk forth with this lesson: do not spend your strength in chasing things that fade. Instead, spend your days in giving hope. Offer a hand where there is weakness, a word where there is silence, a smile where there is sorrow. If you can make one person remember that life is good, you have done more than the wealthy merchant who fills his house with treasures.

Thus, the teaching resounds through the ages: material things serve the body, but kindness nourishes the soul. Strive, then, not only to gather possessions, but to gather moments of shared humanity. For when the earth has claimed your body and your shoes are dust, it is not your riches that shall be remembered—it is the smiles you gave, and the lives you touched.