April 29, 1999

Defining Success

He was always an interesting person. People who knew him saw how hard he worked in his studies, forcing himself to master every aspect he could. He was soon approaching graduation, and his teachers, his friends, and those who knew his reputation all saw the grandest of futures for him. They would come up to him and pat him on the back, asking questions.

"Where are you going to continue your education?"

"What kind of job are you looking for?"

"How's that starting salary looking?"

"Will you mention me in your Nobel acceptance speech?"

He smiled, thanked them, and shrugged off the compliments. If you asked him why, he would claim that success just wasn't meant for him. He didn't care for awards or glory; he just wanted to share his knowledge.

He ended up winning a big award in his major, and at the ceremony, the dean asked him to state his plans for the future.

"I will not be anyone great. History will not remember me. If the people in my field remember me for longer than a generation, that will be a miracle. These do not describe me; they do describe a student of mine. I have not yet met this student, but I will. This student will go further and fulfill all these dreams you have for me. That is who you will remember."

The audience gasped in shock, for how could someone so brilliant define success so poorly?