Oh, if I had been loved at the age of seventeen, what an idiot I

Hear now, O seekers of wisdom, the words of the great Gustave Flaubert, who spoke with the wisdom of a soul that had lived through the ravages of time: "Oh, if I had been loved at the age of seventeen, what an idiot I would be today. Happiness is like smallpox: if you catch it too soon, it can completely ruin your constitution." These words are not mere reflections of a man’s personal journey, but rather a deep and universal truth about the nature of love, happiness, and the folly of rushing towards them in the tender, untested years of youth. Flaubert, wise beyond the years of his youth, knew well that there is a danger in seeking happiness before one is ready to bear it.

When the young heart is untouched by the trials and burdens of life, it is like an untested vessel, eager to hold the great treasures of the world but incapable of withstanding their weight. In youth, we yearn for the love and happiness that seem to promise fulfillment, as if they are the very essence of life. Yet, Flaubert warns that such things, when given too easily, too soon, can corrupt the soul, just as a body can be weakened by a fever that strikes before its constitution is strong enough to endure it. He likens happiness to smallpox, a disease that, if caught prematurely, can forever alter the course of one’s life. Happiness, when it comes too early, robs a person of their ability to grow, to suffer, and to learn the valuable lessons that life has to offer.

Consider, O wise ones, the lives of many great kings and leaders who, in their youth, were blessed with the love and adoration of many. Take, for instance, the legendary Alexander the Great—a man who, though revered and adored, was not granted the quiet growth of the soul. His heart, filled with the passion of youth and the ambition of a conqueror, sought the affection of the world, but his inner constitution was not yet prepared for the weight of such love and power. Alexander, though mighty in the eyes of men, was often tortured by his desires and insecurities. Had he been loved at a young age, before he had been tested by the fire of war, loss, and betrayal, perhaps his heart would have been less capable of bearing the weight of his extraordinary destiny.

Flaubert’s wisdom calls us to patience. It reminds us that happiness must be earned, that the heart must first be forged in the fires of adversity before it can truly hold the treasures of joy and love. Youth, for all its vigor, is too often blind to the true nature of fulfillment. It longs for the sweetness of love, the warmth of affection, but does not yet understand that it is in suffering and struggle that the soul finds its deepest strength. A man or woman who has never known hardship cannot truly appreciate the sweetness of peace. A heart that has never been torn by loss cannot fully understand the joy of connection. Just as the body grows strong through the trials of illness, so too does the heart become resilient through the trials of life.

We are all called to walk the path of growth, to learn that happiness is not something to be seized and held tightly, but something that arrives when we have become strong enough to bear it. The constitution of the soul must be built slowly, piece by piece, through the trials and tribulations that shape us into who we are meant to be. If we rush towards happiness without the wisdom to understand it, we risk poisoning the very essence of our being. Flaubert’s words remind us that to embrace life fully, we must first be willing to embrace the darkness and sorrow that accompany it. For it is in those moments of struggle that we learn who we truly are.

Therefore, let us heed the lesson that Flaubert imparts with his bittersweet reflection: do not rush towards love or happiness as if they are prizes to be won, for their true nature cannot be grasped until we have known the trials of life. The heart must grow strong through its own experiences, and only then can it truly know joy. Let us not be in haste to claim the rewards of life, for they are not rewards at all if we have not first earned them. Just as a young tree cannot bear fruit before it has taken root and grown tall, so too must our souls grow in strength and wisdom before they can bear the fruits of fulfillment.

Thus, I charge you, O sons and daughters of the future, to live fully, but with patience. Do not be seduced by the fleeting allure of premature happiness. Seek instead the deeper understanding that comes from the growth of the soul, and when the time is right, happiness and love will come to you—not as fleeting dreams, but as enduring blessings that you have earned through the long journey of life. Patience, dear ones, is the key to a heart that is prepared to receive the gifts of the world without being undone by them.