Life's most persistent and urgent question is, 'What are you

“Life’s most persistent and urgent question is, ‘What are you doing for others?’” — these words of Martin Luther King, Jr. echo through the corridors of time like the toll of a great bell, calling the soul of humankind to awaken. They are not mere words, but a challenge — a sacred inquiry posed to every heart that beats beneath the sun. For what is life, if it is lived only for oneself? What is existence, if not a chance to lift the burdens of another? The ancients taught that the measure of a person is not in their wealth, nor their might, but in the good they sow in the fields of others’ lives. Thus, this question becomes not just King’s, but the eternal question of humanity’s purpose.

When Dr. King spoke these words, the world around him trembled with injustice. His people were chained not by iron, but by hatred and oppression. Yet he did not ask, “What is being done to me?” but rather, “What am I doing for others?” He turned the gaze of his followers inward, toward service, sacrifice, and compassion. His question reminds us that greatness is not born from ease or comfort, but from the willingness to stand for those who cannot stand alone. Like a torchbearer walking through the night, King carried the flame of love into the darkness, proving that the light of service is stronger than the shadows of selfishness.

In ages past, similar truths were spoken by sages and warriors alike. The philosopher Confucius taught, “He who wishes to secure the good of others has already secured his own.” The Stoics, too, declared that one’s virtue is proven in deeds done for the community. And in every sacred tradition, from East to West, the heart of morality beats in rhythm with altruism. Even in ancient Rome, a soldier who shielded his comrade from a fatal blow was remembered not for his valor in victory, but for his unselfish courage. Thus, through centuries and civilizations, the echo of King’s question reverberates — for the call to serve others is the oldest melody of the human spirit.

Consider the life of Mother Teresa, who walked among the dying and the destitute in the streets of Calcutta. Her hands touched wounds that the world refused to see, her eyes met the gaze of the forgotten. She once said, “Not all of us can do great things, but we can do small things with great love.” Here we see King’s teaching incarnate — the truth that one need not be powerful to change the world, only willing. In her every act, she answered the question: “What am I doing for others?” Her answer was her life itself, a living poem of compassion.

Yet, this teaching is not reserved for saints or heroes alone. It belongs to the everyday soul — to the mother who toils for her children, the friend who listens in silence, the stranger who offers kindness without reward. To live for others does not demand crowns or monuments; it demands the humility to see another’s pain and the courage to act. The farmer who feeds, the teacher who enlightens, the healer who restores — all are answering life’s urgent question with quiet grace.

But beware, for selfishness is a subtle enemy. It whispers that one’s own comfort must come first, that others can wait, that one person cannot make a difference. Yet every act of goodness sends ripples across the ages. The helping hand extended today becomes the unseen blessing of tomorrow. One candle may seem small, yet it can ignite a thousand others — and that is how service transforms the world.

Therefore, my child, let this truth be etched upon your heart: to live only for oneself is to wither, but to live for others is to bloom. Seek not merely happiness, but purpose; not applause, but impact. Ask yourself each dawn, as King once did, “What am I doing for others?” and let your deeds be your answer. Feed the hungry, comfort the sorrowful, defend the oppressed — even in the smallest of ways. For in serving others, you will discover the divine secret that to give is to live.

And when your days draw to their close, may it be said not that you took much, but that you gave much; not that you rose high, but that you lifted others higher. Then you will have fulfilled the greatest calling of all — to live not merely as a being among others, but as a blessing to all.