Once there was a deep dark nothing. A nothing that was full; full of blackness, space, and of course, it was full of nothing. Then somehow, in some miraculous way, into that deep dark, a tiny spark was given. Birthed into the darkness, quietly, unannounced, and it grew slowly. But not that slowly. Soon the nothing wasn’t empty anymore. And the spark, it grew into a roaring flame, so bright that the nothingness resounded with its fullness and brightness. It was no longer empty. From the nothingness of the deep, the spark burned. It was not nothing. It was alive. And it loved being alive. Thriving and growing the spark looked round at itself and saw that there was something wrong with his bright shape. Yes, he realized that he was a "he" and an "it" no longer. His heart was shaped like a lion, strong and fierce, but there was still something not right. He looked and watched and though he felt safe, he was afraid. The dark nothingness comforted him, and gave him faith...