When I was a child, whilst playing in the garden one day, I had the blessing of finding a small cocoon, just as the butterfly that had been changing inside was about to re-enter the world.. Being a lover of all things big and small, and expressing a bit of compassion, I tried to help by gently helping the butterfly to free itself.. Just at the moment when I reached towards the little creature, my mother, who unbeknown to me had been quietly watching my encounter with nature, came over and stopped me..
I could not understand why my mom would not let me help the little winged insect to freedom. I had been watching it for several minutes, and it was clear that it would be a long and exhausting struggle.. Surely I could help, and then enjoy seeing the butterfly float freely around the garden?
My mom then explained to me that the butterfly would only be able to free itself when it was ready for the world. That God was giving it a test to make it strong.. I did not agree, or think it was very fair (and would only really come to understand the lesson several years later). Nonetheless, I conceded, and continued to observe, now in the company of my mother. We sat for what seemed like hours... I cannot tell you how long it was, as I was so enveloped in the display that was unfolding before me..
Finally, the butterfly emerged, and with a little quiver, shook free from it's restraint. It's wings were not what I expected.. They looked all crumpled and wilted.. Confused, I turned to my mom, who, also mesmerised by the little creature, turned to look at me and went on to explain that the wings had to unfold and dry out as they had been crumpled up for so long, and that there was nothing wrong with it, Again I looked on with a little bit of frustration at the fact that I could do nothing to help.. Gradually the wings, buffeted by the breeze, began to uncurl, revealing a rich, burnt orange canvas, painted with seemingly random black smudges and borders..
As the wings began to take shape, I came to realize that the creature could fly, and that perhaps it would fly away.. With a mild sense of panic, I asked my mom if I could keep it, because it was my friend now, as we had watched it for so long.. My mom again replied "No, it didn't do all that work for nothing, now it must fly around the garden."
I was having none of it, as I knew that it could just fly away.. I asked what we could do to make sure it did not leave.. She then told me that we must "Plant flowers", because butterflies liked flowers. She continued that there was no way to keep it here, because it was a free creature, but if we were lucky, it might stay, and we might see it again one day..
Finally accepting the reality of nature, I was satisfied with her answer.. A short while later the little animal's wings were taken up by the wind.. It was not very graceful, but it flew.. Over the next few days I looked for "My butterfly". There were so many in the garden ,but I knew that my special one was out there..
It was only a few days ago, perhaps fifteen years later, that I remember that day... The memory was brought back when I saw another butterfly, struggling with the cocoon that we can "Real Life".. No matter how much I wish I could help, I know that this is all part of God's test, to make strong..
And now I come to realise that there is only one thing that I can do... "Plant flowers"...
