My object in life is not simply to make money for myself or to

“My object in life is not simply to make money for myself or to spend it on myself in dressing or running around in an automobile, but I love to use a part of what I make in trying to help others.” — In these words, Madam C. J. Walker, one of the first self-made women millionaires in America, reveals a truth that transcends the ages: that wealth, when unaccompanied by purpose, is but dust upon the wind. Her voice, rising from the heart of struggle, speaks not of gold and grandeur, but of the divine duty of prosperity — that to possess is to share, and to rise is to lift others beside you.

Born in the aftermath of bondage, Sarah Breedlove, who the world would come to know as Madam Walker, began life as a child of poverty and pain. Orphaned, widowed, and burdened with toil, she might have vanished into the forgotten corners of history. But within her burned a relentless light — the spirit that refuses to be broken. From humble beginnings as a washerwoman, she transformed herself into a visionary entrepreneur, creating a business empire of haircare products that not only brought her success, but dignity and opportunity to thousands of Black women who had long been denied both. Yet, though her name grew in renown and her fortune swelled, she did not worship her wealth — she harnessed it for good.

In her own words, she declared that money was never her master, but her servant — a tool through which love could act, justice could breathe, and hope could grow. She built schools and training centers, sponsored scholarships, and gave generously to causes of freedom and equality. Her home was not a fortress of luxury, but a beacon of generosity. Her success was not an end in itself, but a means to elevate others. This was her true object in life: to make prosperity a river that nourishes all, not a stagnant pool of self-indulgence.

Let the wise remember this — wealth is not evil, but how it is used reveals the heart of its bearer. The miser who clings to his treasure decays in spirit, while the giver grows in grace. Madam Walker understood that riches gain meaning only when shared. Her greatness lay not in the empire she built, but in the empowerment she gave. For what is the value of gold if it does not kindle light in another’s darkness? What is the worth of success if it does not sow seeds for the generations to come?

Her story mirrors that of many noble souls through history — men and women who saw in their blessings a sacred trust. Consider Andrew Carnegie, the steel magnate who spent his final years founding libraries and universities across the world. He too came to see that “a man who dies rich dies disgraced.” The same fire burned in Madam Walker’s heart, yet hers glowed with an even rarer warmth — for she rose not from privilege, but from the ashes of oppression, and still chose to give rather than grasp. Her life stands as both triumph and teaching: that true success is measured not by accumulation, but by contribution.

Thus, dear listener, take heed of this ancient yet ever-new wisdom: if you seek wealth, let it be with purpose; if you gain fortune, let it serve love. The object of life is not to adorn the body but to enrich the soul. Use what you have — be it money, time, or talent — to heal, to teach, to uplift. Let every act of generosity become a seed planted in the garden of humanity. For every hand you raise from despair becomes part of your legacy, and every kindness extended outlives the giver.

Madam Walker’s words echo through time like a bell of conscience, reminding us that true prosperity is shared prosperity. When you earn, remember those who cannot. When you rise, extend your hand. When you succeed, let gratitude be your compass and service your crown. For in the end, the riches of the heart will outweigh the riches of the world. And those who, like her, use what they make to help others, will find that they have built not merely an empire, but an eternal inheritance in the hearts of humankind.