In an age where overindulgence seems to be the norm, I can't

Hear, O child of tomorrow, the words of Dan Levy, who spoke with wisdom and gratitude: “In an age where overindulgence seems to be the norm, I can't help but look back and feel thankful that my parents chose to hold out on giving me everything that I wanted growing up.” These words rise like a beacon in a world awash with excess. They are not the complaint of one deprived, but the thanksgiving of one who knows that true strength is not forged in abundance, but in the discipline of limits, the shaping of character through restraint.

The origin of this utterance lies in the upbringing given to Levy by his parents, who, despite possessing the ability to shower him with comforts, chose instead the wiser path. They did not grant every whim, but taught him patience, appreciation, and the art of laboring toward what is desired. In a society where children are often drowned in gifts yet starved of gratitude, this act of parental discipline became a foundation upon which he would build both his humility and his resilience. His thankfulness reflects the ancient truth: to be denied is sometimes the greatest gift of all.

Consider the tale of Cincinnatus of Rome, who, though he could have seized riches and power, chose instead a life of simplicity and discipline. When the republic called him to lead, he rose from his plow and delivered Rome from peril, only to return again to his farm. His strength was not born of indulgence, but of restraint, of knowing the value of “enough.” Levy’s words echo this lesson: that the power to live well, to create, and to endure is rooted not in the glut of having everything, but in the training of the soul to endure lack without bitterness.

His reflection also strikes against the illusion of modern times: that love is proven through indulgence, and that happiness comes from being surrounded with possessions. But Levy’s gratitude reveals the opposite: that it is precisely because his parents withheld that he learned to treasure, to strive, and to endure. To be given all one desires is to dull the appetite of the spirit; to be made to wait and labor is to sharpen it, until joy becomes radiant when it finally arrives.

The lesson here is profound: do not curse the times when you are not given what you want. Those moments are your training. They teach you patience, resilience, and the ability to find joy in simplicity. Parents who dare to say “no,” teachers who demand more, life itself when it withholds—these are not enemies, but allies shaping you into a vessel strong enough to hold true greatness.

Therefore, O listener, live with gratitude for both what you have and what you lack. If you are denied a desire, let it refine your hunger; if you are withheld an easy path, let it strengthen your resolve. If you raise children, do not smother them with indulgence, but gift them the discipline of restraint, for it is a greater inheritance than gold. For in teaching them to wait, you are teaching them to live fully, with appreciation and strength.

So let the words of Dan Levy endure: “I feel thankful that my parents chose to hold out on giving me everything I wanted.” In them lies the eternal truth that abundance without wisdom weakens, but restraint with love strengthens. Carry this lesson in your heart, and you will walk as one who can endure hardship without despair, who can receive blessing without arrogance, and who can face the storms of life with a spirit unbroken.