THE BUTTERFLY AND THE STORM

Butterflies are special to me.   They evoke a fond childhood memory of standing in my Grandmother's back yard, arms outstretched, palms to the sky with a nickel in each hand glimmering in the sunlight.  My brother and I would do this to attract the beautiful blue and black swallowtail butterflies that would flit from flower to flower in my grandmother's garden.  Occasionally one would land on my little hand to check out the nickel.  It was so gentle and tickled my hand before it gracefully took off.  It was a thrilling experience for a five-year-old.

There are many monarchs this time of year in the area where I live.  Lovely and graceful, they flutter through our yards.  To my dismay, I found one on my porch last evening upside down with its wet wings pinned to the ground.  I gasped and carefully picked it up.  To my surprise, it started moving.  It was still alive!  Not sure what to do, and with a hurricane raging through our region, I found a dry protected spot in our yard, but it didn't want to leave my warm hand.  Finally, it settled in the sheltered spot.  I reluctantly left it there wondering if it would survive the night. 

This morning the storm had passed and the sun was out, so I looked for the Monarch.  It had moved from its shelter and was clinging to a wall.  I urged it on my hand and marveled at its beautiful wings and delicately spotted body then took it over to a high sunny ledge in the garden.  When I nudged it onto the warm bricks, it stood there for a moment, flexed its wings, and suddenly was in the air darting around effortlessly.  It easily soared over our high fence and disappeared.  What a miracle that this delicate creature survived the storm.  

Don't lose hope, you never know what tomorrow will bring.🙏