My policy was just to give good things for sports in my region.

Hear now the voice of Sergei Bubka, master of the skies, whose pole once lifted him higher than any man before. In his simplicity he declared: “My policy was just to give good things for sports in my region.” Do not be deceived by the modesty of his words. They carry within them the flame of a greater truth: that greatness is not measured only by personal triumph, but by what one returns to the soil from which one has risen. To give good things is nobler than to receive, and to sow into one’s region is to ensure that the harvest of glory shall not end with oneself, but will multiply in the lives of others.

The meaning of his saying is clear. A champion is not merely a solitary figure standing upon the podium, bathed in applause. A true champion is a builder, a guardian, a benefactor who ensures that the path for those who come after will be smoother, broader, and filled with opportunities once denied. Bubka speaks not as one who clings to his victories, but as one who pours his strength back into the roots of his homeland. He shows us that the highest policy is not selfish ambition, but service.

The origin of this wisdom can be traced to the eternal law of life: what we keep for ourselves dies with us, but what we give to others endures beyond the grave. In ancient Greece, city-states erected gymnasia and stadia, not for a single athlete, but for the cultivation of the people. In Rome, generals returning from conquest built aqueducts, roads, and forums so that their glory was not only sung in parades, but lived daily by their citizens. Bubka, by investing in the sport of his region, stands within this lineage of leaders who saw beyond themselves and worked to build the strength of their people.

Consider the tale of Andrew Carnegie, the great industrialist of the modern age. Having amassed immense wealth, he declared that to die rich was to die disgraced. Thus, he poured his fortune into libraries, schools, and institutions of knowledge, leaving behind not only monuments of steel, but the living legacy of wisdom and learning for countless souls. In this, he resembled Bubka: both men understood that greatness lies not in what you take, but in what you leave.

The lesson is this: each of us, no matter our station, is called to “give good things” to the soil where we were planted. It may not be in the form of stadiums or libraries, but it may be in kindness, in mentorship, in the lifting of a neighbor’s burden. If we live only for our own gain, our lives become like a flame that burns brightly and then vanishes. But if we give, our flame lights the torches of others, and so our light lives on.

Therefore, let each man and woman consider: What am I giving back? The region may be your family, your community, your profession, or your nation. To give is not always to spend gold; it is to spend time, energy, care, and heart. Teach a child to read, guide a youth toward courage, or build a place where the weak may find strength. These are the good things that multiply across generations.

And so, beloved listener, walk not the path of selfish glory, but of noble service. Let your policy be as Bubka’s: to leave your world better than you found it, to sow into the soil that nurtured you, and to ensure that the future bears sweeter fruit than the past. Do this, and your name will not be forgotten, for it will be written in the hearts of those who rise because of your gift.