I was once told a story that captivated my heart and my curiousity. It was a very very short story, vague on its edges but magnificent and enthralling, something that my thirsty mind and soaring heart had never heard of before. It was the story of Athena—the goddess of wisdom, the maiden and daughter of Zeus—and the story of her birth. She was born from Zeus’s head for the lightning god had swallowed his wife up in fear of her giving birth to a son stronger than him. But the wife gave birth instead to Athena inside his head, putting her in armor, lifting her up to be an equal of men and gods alike. Athena caused quite the disruption in her father’s head until Zeus asked for Hephaestus’s help in splitting his skull open and out came Athena. She was fierce and full of valor and her father adored her. She became my favourite goddess out of all the others in the Ancient Greece myths. It was Athena who I imagined governing the whole world, looking over the youth and bestowing the knowledge of the world into the open palms of those who asked for it and knocked on her door relentlessly. She was …show more content…
After all, she’s the goddess of wisdom and cleverness, all the things that I value most in my companions and acquaintances. All the things that I have wanted to know. So I asked questions around, to my father and my aunt, to Google and friends. Why are clouds white and cotton-like? What caused Sylvia Plath to commit suicide in such a way? How did the sun exist and manage to light up the whole galaxy? What will happen to the world if a country as powerful as America declare wars on Islamic countries and have other Western countries at its disposal? My young mind was full of wondering and seeking. My young mind was searching for something to call the truth, the absolute ugly truth. My young mind was filled with imagining. I was a curious, curious child with huge dreams hiding inside my little