The Greek gods may not be believed in anymore, but that doesn’t stop them from having children with destinies that they’ll never know. You can see the gods in their children, in their personality and in the way they act by nature.
You can see Zeus in the children that aren’t bothered by heights, you can see him in the kids that seem to thrive during storms while the other kids hide under their beds and flinch at the sound of thunder. And you can see him in the lawyers that fight for justice for their client.
You can see Poseidon in the natural born swimmers, and in the girl that can hold her breath underwater longer than everyone else. In the people that stare out windows while it’s raining, saddened that they can’t go outside and dance in it, or in the people that walk while it’s pouring and seem to not get wet. You can see him in the children that can calm down a scared horse by simply talking to it.
You can see Hades in the children that seem to go unnoticed but notice everything. You can see him in the kids that don’t have many friends, or in the people that seem to go where they please when they please. Or in the kids that understand death a little too well for their young age. And in the children that seem to always have money in their pockets, despite never getting paid.
You can see Athena in the children that know their strengths and weaknesses and aren’t afraid to talk about them. You can see her in the children that always have their noses buried in a book, or in the children that always seem to know the answer to questions and riddles no matter how hard they are.
You can see Ares in the children that pick fights with everyone. Or in the kids that know more than they should about war. And in the parents that abuse their children. In the speakers at marches, inspiring everyone to keep moving despite the threats.
You can see Hermes in the kids that seem to always get what they want when they want it. In the kids that take pencils and paper out of lockers and never get caught. Or in the children that have too good memories, reciting whole speeches without glancing down at their paper.
You can see Demeter in the old lady down the street that always has a blooming garden. In the kids that somehow find the prettiest flowers in a field full of weeds. In the way the plants seem to reach out to your neighbor as he waters them. And in the way some kids can climb trees as easily as they walk or run.
You can see Aphrodite in the teens that always seem to have a significant other. In the girls that can make any guy swoon at them in under a minute, or in the guy that all the girls fawn over at recess. You can see her in the relationships that last longer than expected, and in the friendships that last into another life. In the girls with perfect hair, or the guys with perfect muscles.
You can see Hephaestus in the toddlers that build impossible structures with their toy blocks. Or in the girl that can fix anything no matter how broken it is or how many pieces it has. In the kids that always fiddle with their hands, and in the children that never seem to get burned no matter how close they get to it. In the factor workers that get paid the same for twice the work.
You can see Apollo in the children that seem to glow in the sun. In the kids that never seem to get cold, and in the choir students that can hit notes that the other kids only dream of. In the adults that have random knowledge about topics they don’t remember studying in high school. In the way some seem to have natural aim when throwing a ball, or Frisbee.
