Transcription
Successful people are accomplished, famous, or wealthy. But I once knew a woman who defined success differently. Her accomplishment was the smile that she would put on a person's face. Her fame was the acknowledgement from the people that she helped. Her wealth was the love that she had for her family and friends. Nvis gonzago, my mother, may have been an ordinary woman to many, but to me, she is the most successful person that I've ever known.
Successful people like Albert Einstein are accomplished: a valid valedictorian in high school, a kumla in college, and a proud owner of two master's degrees. My mother was, by traditional standards, an accomplished person. But the accomplishment that she held deep within her heart came in the prestigious title bestowed upon her by all of Harlem.
Catwoman. To say that my mother loved animals would be the understatement of the century. You see, my days as a child were filled with the image of my mother rescuing over 30 stray cats and dogs every day in the shadiest of New York alleys. My mother would summon all the cats, dogs, and even raccoons from the dark depths of Harlem to feed them. It was like a scene from Snow White, except without the musical overture and the creepy men. Most of the time. And that is an accomplishment that nobody can deny.
Successful people like Adele are famous. But my mother had a different kind of fame. People knew her not for a hit pop song or signature movie role, but for her desire to help. Not only did she work with drug addicts and alcoholics, but she was also a nurse supervisor for AIDS patients. But my favorite story of her generosity is a little unorthodox. My mother would go to the junkyard to feed a stray dog every day. One day, when the dog wasn't there, a homeless man offered to feed the dog for her. But instead of feeding the dog, the man ate the dog food himself. Ignited by a fire within her heart, my mother resolved to feed the man every day until he was able to support himself. No matter what the situation, my mother always wanted to give back to the world, defining success not by fame, but by generosity.
Successful people like Bill Gates are wealthy. But wealth does not always come with a dollar sign. I remember when my mother was first diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Months turned into years until the doctors, in a desperate attempt to make her death as easy as possible, offered to cut her blood supply. But my mother refused, just to spend every final second with her family. And that was where her wealth resided. Because for her, it wasn't about having an easy death; it was about making a difference in the lives of the people that she loved. And that made all the pain, no matter how difficult to endure, worthwhile. My mother was a woman whose richness transcended money, and she taught me the most valuable lesson: we don't live to be successful; we live to share ideas, to make a difference, to touch the lives of others, no matter how difficult or how challenging. And in that sense, my mother was richer than the wealthiest of billionaires.
Successful people are accomplished, famous, or wealthy. But on your deathbed, nobody will remember you for your grades in college, your Twitter followers, or your six-figure salary. They will remember you for your contributions, your integrity, and your character. That is true success. And maybe my mother was not your definition of what it means to be successful, but she certainly was mine. Thank you.