”There is in every one of us, even those who seem to be most moderate, a type of desire that is terrible, wild, and lawless.” —Plato
Emma wasn’t the fastest girl on her team, nor was she the most talented. She was, however, the most determined.
Desire was her strength.
Emma was tired, breathing hard, but there was only one minute left in the match. She pushed herself, tired as she was, to make one last run at the goal. Her tired muscles screamed in protest, but she ignored them. A ball flew over her head from midfield, and she had pulled ahead of the last defender, giving everything she had. She got to the ball and fired it toward the net. Goal!
She collapsed to the ground, completely spent, but her excited teammates pulled her back up, hugging her. They were going to the playoffs!
Back at home after the match, she stepped out of the shower and stood before the mirror. She wasn’t beautiful but she was pretty. Her lithe, athletic body, the product of years of sports and training, made up for an unremarkable face. She grabbed a hair band and placed her shoulder-length dirty blond hair in her usual ponytail.
Sometimes, she wished she were beautiful, but it wasn’t who she was. She wasn’t especially smart, especially attractive, or especially talented, but she had desire, heart in spades. She managed to succeed because she was willing to put in hard work when others would give in.
She walked to her room, putting on her typical uniform—tank top, jeans, and sneakers. The team was meeting at the pizza place in her small town to celebrate their playoff-clinching 1-0 victory.
Suddenly, there was a golden glow around her, and...