Board Thread:Watercooler 2.0/@comment-6198648-20130228045108/@comment-6191837-20130609031200

Hope  The Child was young and small, the least of a group of many. The Child was meek, for she was a gnat near the great. It had not the force of the boss, Wrath. The Child did not have the lack of fear like Pride, or the raw might of Rage. Pain made her dim, and Want, her rival, took her food. Fear made her weak. Joy more oft than not took her place at the board. But the Child was never gone from this board. And why was the Child never gone from the board? For the very board, in both make and soul, had a great need for the child. This board was the board of man, the tale of the life of man hewn fro m the sum of the needs and deeds of the race. Man could live sans Wrath, Rage, and Pain, who only tore down what Man made, and made ruin of his city. And Pride, oh great Pride, more than once, had fell many a good hero and wise man. Men, who free of Pride, would have led their race on. Fear was but a smudge on the life of man, a beast who fed off man’s wants and thoughts. Of them, only Joy was at the board of man close to as long as the Child. But Joy was the cause of lack of drive in men, the drive that made men do good deeds and sate the needs of the rest of their race. The Child was more than that to man. The Child was a boon to man, a gift of grace to man. For the Child was Hope, and Hope was the lone, solid hero of Man.

