“And now I wish to ask you each a question. What particular thing or power seems most dear and necessary to you in your own life, in order to fulfil your aim. Alfred, tell me. Do you know? Or do you want time to think of it?” “What I want most,” said Alfred, “is the power to calculate and judge how things are going to turn out. To plan well.” “What I want most,” said Marian, “is to be the sort of girl I wish to be. To be like my idea of myself.” “What I want most,” said Virginia, “is to have fun, to be happy.” “What does that mean?” asked Henry. “Happiness, for each one of us, is having what we want most.” “Well,” said Virginia, “I like life to be pleasant for me and for all the people about me.” “What I want most,” said Florence, “is to be loved.” “Only to be loved, or to love, too?” “To be loved and to love.” Ruth said: “That is what I want most, too.” Henry said: “I agree with them.” They all seemed to wish they had said it. Virginia added: “If you are happy, you are loved.” “Lately,” said I, “this last week, a leader of clubs told me he had asked this same question of a club of boys. I wanted to see what you would answer.” “What did they answer?” “They, all but one, answered ‘Money.’ The one said he wished to make beautiful things.” “That is a fine answer,” Virginia said. “I’m sure I would like him.” “I know,” said Henry, “a great many boys feel that way. I happen to know of that club. One of those boys said to me lately, what he wanted most was to have lots of money, so he could enjoy himself. But I think after he had the money, he would not find the enjoyment satisfying.” “Of course,” I answered, “money is necessary to life; that is, the means of life are necessary to life.” “But one can earn those,” said they. Marian said: “If I were as strong, capable and good as I would like, and just the sort of person I mean to be, it would be easy to earn money.” Ruth said: “If one is loved and loves many people, one is sure to find some way of getting enough money to live. I don’t mean that people will thrust it on you, but you are sure to find the way to get whatever you need.” I said: “Money is only, as it were, a certificate of power; for so much work, you are given the means to go on working and living. But the great problem is to make the work itself worth more to us than the payment. And I am afraid with most people it is not so. Money is a means for work, for life, for fulfilment. If things were properly adjusted, and society perfect, each man would work for his livelihood at the work which he loved most to do.” Virginia said: “I would rather be a pauper than not be an artist.” I answered: “I hope each one of you will find the means to do the work you love, and make it your livelihood. For that is the only way to justify both work and wage.” Then I said: “Before we part and plan to meet again, I am going to tell you something very exciting. I am almost afraid to say it.” “What is it? Tell us, quick.”