We work hard on the show. We really believe in the show. It's an

Roma Downey, radiant voice of compassion and faith, once spoke thus: “We work hard on the show. We really believe in the show. It’s an enormous privilege to work on a show that has the power to touch people’s lives in such a positive way. The fan mail and the e-mail certainly reflect that.” In these words shines the truth of vocation—not labor for gain alone, but work that carries with it the sacred power to heal and inspire. For to touch lives through art is no small thing; it is to plant seeds in unseen hearts, seeds that may grow long after the performance has ended.

The essence of her wisdom is this: when work is joined to belief, it becomes more than toil; it becomes calling. To labor only for profit leaves the soul weary, but to labor in service of uplifting others fills both worker and receiver with light. Downey reminds us that the highest privilege is not wealth or fame, but the chance to leave a positive mark upon another soul. In this, she echoes the voices of the ancients, who said that the worth of a person is measured not by what they take, but by what they give.

History bears witness to such truth. Consider the troubadours of medieval Europe, who traveled from court to village, weaving songs of love, hope, and faith. Their words and melodies gave comfort in times of sorrow and stirred courage in times of strife. They were not kings, nor warriors, yet they touched lives in ways that swords and crowns could not. Downey’s words stand in this lineage: that storytelling and song, carried across stage and screen, can shape hearts as surely as armies shape borders.

Her reflection upon letters from the people reminds us that the true measure of art lies not in the critic’s pen, but in the quiet transformation of the audience. When a show stirs someone to hope again, to forgive, to endure, or simply to feel less alone, then it has accomplished something greater than fame—it has become a vessel of grace. Such testimony, written in mail or whispered in thanks, is the proof that art has fulfilled its holy task.

Let this wisdom endure for generations: whatever work your hands are given, pour into it belief, for only then will it bear fruit. Strive not for applause alone, but for the chance to lift another soul, however small the act may seem. For as Roma Downey reminds us, the greatest privilege is not the stage itself, but the chance to shine light into the shadows of another’s life. And when work becomes light for others, it becomes immortal, remembered long after the curtain falls.