Life of Human Beings and Its Objective

The old man sat on a wooden bench in the middle of the park, watching the children run and laugh as the sun sank low on the horizon. His name was Samuel, and he had lived eighty-two years. The air carried the smell of freshly cut grass, and the laughter of children reminded him of how quickly life passed, how it bloomed and vanished like the seasons.

Beside him sat his granddaughter, Lena, only seventeen, her eyes full of questions that he had once asked himself.

“Grandpa,” she said softly, “what’s the purpose of life? Everyone talks about careers, money, success… but none of it feels like enough. Why do we live? What’s the point of it all?”

Samuel smiled faintly. He had asked the same question when he was her age. And now, near the end of his life, he finally felt ready to answer.

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The First Stage: Childhood

“When I was a boy,” Samuel began, “life was simple. My only objective was joy—running through fields, chasing fireflies, tasting my mother’s cooking, and laughing with friends. Childhood teaches us one truth: to be alive is itself a gift. The objective then is wonder.”

Lena nodded, her lips curling into a small smile as she watched the children nearby chase a kite.

“But childhood passes,” Samuel continued. “We grow, and life begins to ask more from us.”

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The Second Stage: Youth

“In youth,” Samuel said, “I thought the purpose of life was ambition. I studied hard, dreamed of wealth, dreamed of fame. I believed that if I climbed higher than others, I would touch happiness.

I worked endlessly, chasing things—grades, promotions, recognition. And for a time, I thought I had found my objective: success. But I discovered something important, Lena.”

He paused, his wrinkled hands resting gently on his cane.

“Success without meaning feels empty. You can win every race, earn every coin, and still feel poor inside. Youth is about searching, but the danger is mistaking possessions for purpose.”

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The Third Stage: Adulthood

Samuel’s eyes softened as he recalled the next part of his journey.

“In adulthood, I married your grandmother. I held your father in my arms the day he was born. For the first time, I understood that life is not only about me. It is about others.

Adulthood’s objective is responsibility—caring for family, serving community, building something greater than yourself. When you give, Lena, when you help someone else stand taller, your own life grows richer. That is something money can never buy.”

Lena leaned closer, listening carefully. “So is family the objective of life, Grandpa?”

He smiled. “It is part of it, but not the whole.”

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The Fourth Stage: Old Age

Samuel looked up at the darkening sky, stars beginning to appear. His voice grew softer.

“In old age, when your hair turns white and your steps slow, you begin to look backward. You ask yourself: Did my life matter?

The objective of old age is wisdom. To gather the lessons of joy, ambition, love, and loss, and pass them on to the next generation. Life is like a book, Lena. Childhood writes the first chapter, youth the second, adulthood the third. But in old age, you see the story as a whole. And the greatest truth is this: life’s objective is not one thing—it is a journey of many.”

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The Greater Meaning

Lena was quiet for a long while, then asked, “But Grandpa… if we all die one day, what’s the point of all this? Doesn’t it all just… end?”

Samuel chuckled gently, his eyes glistening. “Ah, but that is the beauty. Life’s objective is not about permanence. It’s about impact. A flower blooms for a short time, but in that time, it gives beauty, fragrance, and joy. We are the same.

Your laughter, your kindness, your courage—they echo in the lives you touch. I may not live forever, Lena, but the lessons I gave your father, and now give you, will live longer than I ever could. That is the secret objective of human life: to leave behind light, even when our bodies turn to dust.”

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The Ending and the Beginning

The park had grown quiet now. The children had gone home, and the streetlights flickered on. Samuel placed his hand gently over Lena’s.

“Remember this, child,” he whispered. “Life is not about searching for one final answer. It is about living each stage fully—wonder in childhood, ambition in youth, responsibility in adulthood, and wisdom in old age. The objective is not found in a single word but in the whole story.”

Lena squeezed his hand, her eyes misty but full of new understanding. “Thank you, Grandpa. I think… I think I understand now.”

Samuel leaned back, closing his eyes for a moment, breathing in the night air. For him, the journey was almost over, but he felt peace. Because he knew his story would continue through her.

And in that moment, the old man realized something profound: the objective of life is not just to exist—it is to make existence meaningful, so that even when one life ends, the ripple of its impact flows forever.