Once up a time, a long time ago, Zeus ordered Hephaestus (Aphrodite's husband) to make him a daughter. It was the first woman made out of clay. Hephaestus made a beautiful woman and named her Pandora.
Zeus sent his new daughter, Pandora, down to earth so that she could marry Epimetheus, who was a gentle but lonely man.
Zeus was not being kind. He was getting even. Epimetheus and Prometheus were brothers. Zeus was mad at one of the brothers, Prometheus, for giving people fire without asking Zeus first.
Zeus gave Pandora a little box with a big heavy lock on it. He made her promise never to open the box. He gave the key to Pandora’s husband and told him to never open the box. Zeus was sure that Epimetheus' curiosity would get the better of him, and that either Epimetheus or his brother would open the box.
Pandora was very curious. She wanted to see what was inside the box, but Epimetheus said no. Better not. "You know your father," Epimetheus sighed, referring to Zeus. "He’s a tricky one."
One day, when Epimetheus lay sleeping, Pandora stole the key and opened the box.
Out flew every kind of disease and sickness, hate and envy, and all the bad things that people had never experienced before. Pandora slammed the lid closed, but it was too late. All the bad things were already out of the box. They flew away, out into the world.
Epimetheus woke up at the sound of her sobbing. “I opened the box and all these ugly things flew out,” she cried. “I tried to catch them, but they all got out.” Pandora opened the box to show him how empty it was. But the box was not quite empty. One tiny bug flew quickly out before Pandora could slam the lid shut again.
“Hello, Pandora,” said the bug, hovering just out of reach. “My name is Hope.” With a nod of thanks for being set free, Hope flew out into the world, a world that now held Envy, Crime, Hate, and Disease – and Hope.
Det sista som lämnar människan är hopp. Det är det enda som är svårast att förlora. Och jag tror inte att hoppet någonsin lämnar en.
En gång hörde jag någon berätta en sak om självmord. När man är deprimerad och förlorar all hopp (måste krävas mycket för att det ska hända), så är det som om man är längst ner i en brunn. När man är där nere kan man få självmordstankar. Men vet ni vad? För att ta ens liv så måste man ta sig en bit upp ur denna brunnen, man får en gnutta hopp om att livet blir lättare om man dör. Det betyder att de som tar sitt liv egentligen är på väg upp ur brunnen.
Det jag vill säga med detta är inte att jag har självmordstankar, för det har jag absolut inte. Det jag vill säga är just att hoppet är det sista som lämnar människan.
Något att tänka på.
