You are not here merely to make a living. You are here in order

In the noble words of Woodrow Wilson, scholar, statesman, and visionary of the human spirit, we hear a summons to higher purpose: “You are not here merely to make a living. You are here in order to enable the world to live more amply, with greater vision, with a finer spirit of hope and achievement. You are here to enrich the world, and you impoverish yourself if you forget the errand.” These words, spoken in the early twentieth century, ring with the same immortal music that has guided the hearts of all great thinkers — the belief that life’s meaning is not measured in profit, but in purpose, not in what we earn, but in what we give. Wilson spoke to a generation rebuilding itself after hardship, yet his wisdom stretches beyond his era, calling every soul to rise above mere survival and become an instrument of renewal for humanity itself.

To “make a living” is necessary, but to make a life — that is divine. Wilson understood the temptation of his age, as of ours: the lure of material success, the narrowing of human vision to comfort and gain. Against this, he raised a mighty warning: that the pursuit of wealth without service is a form of poverty, that the individual who labors only for the self has forgotten the errand for which they were born. Every man and woman, he reminds us, carries within them a sacred commission — to enrich the world through their gifts, to add beauty where there is sorrow, understanding where there is ignorance, and courage where there is fear. To forget this errand is to starve the soul, no matter how full the purse.

The origin of these words lies in Wilson’s deep faith in education and human potential. Before he was president, he was a teacher, shaping young minds at Princeton University. He saw in every student not a future worker, but a world-changer, someone who might carry the flame of learning into a darkened world. His vision was that of a moral leader who believed that nations, like individuals, must live not for power, but for principle. To live more amply, in his language, meant to live expansively — to think deeply, to dream boldly, to serve generously. He saw service as the highest art, the way by which humanity lifts itself from the mire of selfishness into the light of shared destiny.

Consider the life of Florence Nightingale, who could have lived comfortably within the bounds of wealth and privilege, but who chose instead to answer her errand — to heal the broken and transform the face of modern medicine. In the blood-soaked fields of the Crimean War, she brought hope where death reigned, turning compassion into science and sacrifice into progress. She did not live for a wage; she lived for meaning. Like Wilson’s ideal, she enriched the world through vision and courage. Her legacy endures not in the fortune she might have gained, but in the lives she illuminated.

Wilson’s words speak, too, to the inner life — for the one who forgets to serve does not only fail others, but impoverishes themselves. There is a poverty deeper than hunger, and that is the emptiness of a life lived without purpose. The ancients knew this truth well. The philosophers of Greece, the prophets of Israel, the sages of the East — all taught that man’s greatness lies not in possession, but in participation: in giving oneself to the greater whole. To enrich the world is not merely to change it, but to let it change you — to grow larger through empathy, stronger through generosity, and wiser through love.

It is easy to become small, to lose oneself in routine and comfort, to labor without light. But the spirit of Wilson’s quote calls us to rise again, to remember the errand that brought us here. Each of us, no matter how ordinary we seem, bears a gift uniquely our own — a voice, a craft, a kindness that the world hungers for. To withhold it is to rob both the world and ourselves. For when we give — when we build, teach, heal, or inspire — we become part of something eternal. We stand beside the great builders of civilization who, though their bodies are dust, still enrich the world through the vision they left behind.

Let this be the lesson for every generation: You are not here merely to make a living. Do your work well, but let your work serve something larger than yourself. Let it lift others, even in small ways. Let your thoughts and deeds add warmth to the cold places of the world. Ask not only, “What can I earn?” but “What can I contribute?” For the measure of your life will not be in what you gathered, but in what you gave.

And so, my children, remember the wisdom of Woodrow Wilson — that the truest success is not wealth, but usefulness. To forget your errand is to wander aimlessly through life’s markets; to remember it is to walk with purpose toward eternity. Work, therefore, not merely to live — but to enrich the world, to make its vision clearer, its spirit finer, and its hope more radiant. For this is the errand of the human soul, and blessed are those who do not forget it.