A chance meeting
A serpent sat in the branch of a tree. There, he saw a caterpillar that had just hatched from an egg. It was brand new to the world and it was very hungry. The snake called out to the caterpillar, saying, “Hello, cousin. I see you were just born. What a lot of problems you are facing! Are you feeling alright?”
The caterpillar looked at the snake and said, “I feel fine, friend. Better than fine. I’m a bit hungry, though, so if you don’t mind, I’ll snack on this leaf while we talk.”
“I don’t mind at all,” responded the snake. “In fact, I think it’s quite brave of you to eat, given what that will do to you.”
“I don’t understand,” said the caterpillar. “What will eating do to me?”
“Oh my! It’s awful,” replied the viper. “You’ll grow so fast that your skin won’t be able to keep up. It’ll split open and you’ll have to grow another. It looks very painful.”
The caterpillar was afraid. No creature on Earth wants to feel pain, and the serpent certainly sounded sure of himself. In between mouthfuls of food, he seriously thought about not eating.
“My, my, but you have a hearty appetite!” exclaimed the snake. “You’ve already eaten the leaf on which you were born. I’m worried that the tree you live in won’t be large enough to satisfy your great appetite.”
“I hate to worry you so,” replied the caterpillar, “but I must eat in order to become that which I’m destined to be.”
“Ahhh,” said the serpent. “You have a destiny. What, pray tell, is your destiny, worm?”
“I’m not an ordinary worm. I am to be a butterfly someday,” explained the caterpillar.
“Oh, you’re certainly not ordinary if you’re actually a butterfly. But what makes you so sure that you’re not just a worm? I tell you, cousin, you look like an ordinary worm to me.”
“I just know that I am what I say I am,” said the caterpillar with confidence.
“I don’t know for sure, but I’ve been around awhile. I think perhaps you’re confused. Butterflies look nothing like you. They aren’t worms. They have wings. You’re not a soaring thing. You’re a maggot,” the snake said.
The caterpillar was confused. After all, he had just been born and the snake seemed very sure of himself. Maybe the snake was right. Maybe he wasn’t who he thought he was.
“If I were you, I’d get down from this tree and explore the world a little. Maybe you are a butterfly, but right now, you look like a worm. I think you’d enjoy taking a look around,” said the serpent, perhaps helpfully.
“I’m still pretty small,” replied the caterpillar. “I think I’ll stay where I am until I get bigger.”
“Suit yourself,” replied the snake. “I’ll see you around, worm.”
Growth and molting
The little caterpillar ate all day and most of the night. He noticed that his skin was feeling very tight. “This is just like the snake predicted,” thought the worm. “What if he is right about everything?”
The next day, the snake returned to the tree.
“Your skin seems tight today. Does it hurt much?” he inquired.
“Yes, it does,” admitted the worm.
“Well, stop eating and climb down from your tree. The world will be much less painful for you if you take my advice,” said the snake.
“I think I’ll stay where I am for today,” said the caterpillar, though he was tempted to listen to the snake. Eating was getting tiresome and, yet, he felt compelled to continue.
“Suit yourself,” the snake replied yet again. “Perhaps by tomorrow you’ll have changed your mind.”
When the snake returned the following day, the caterpillar had molted.
“Are you feeling OK, worm? To tell you the truth, you look unwell. Your skin is shiny and your face is distorted,” said the serpent.
“I’m holding my breath,” squeaked the worm. “I must do that to make room for myself inside my own skin. I’m stretching it out so I can stay in it.”
“That sounds difficult. Have you considered not eating? I know I’ve mentioned that before, but perhaps now you will listen to me. Come down from your tree and see the world. I’ll help you. I’ve been here a very long time,” explained the serpent.
“No thanks,” replied the caterpillar. “Breaking through my skin has made me very tired. I must rest today because I don’t think I’m finished yet.”
“Indeed you aren’t, if you are who you say you are,” reasoned the snake. “But, if you’re not who you think you are, you’re wasting your life up in this branch.”
“I’ll let you know tomorrow,” replied the worm.
Wrapped up in his destiny
The following day, the snake came back to the tree again, but the worm was nowhere to be found. The snake called out, “Worm! Where have you gone? Did you decide to take my advice and climb down?”
“I’m here,” came a familiar voice.
“Where? I don’t see you,” the snake said.
“Here, just above where I was yesterday,” said the voice.
“I see you now. You’re making a shroud for yourself! Do you expect to die?” inquired the serpent.
The caterpillar was hanging upside down and had partially covered himself in silk.
“This is no shroud, friend, though I am uncertain exactly what it is,” the worm responded.
“Oh cousin, you must listen to me. You’re dying! The silk that binds you is your undoing. Detach yourself and come down from there. The world is yours, I swear to you, if you come with me.” At this point, the serpent was almost begging.
“You’re my only friend, snake, but I can’t do what you ask. It’s in my nature to follow the path that I’ve found myself on. Please forgive me for not taking your excellent offer, but I can’t stop what has started. It’s my destiny to fulfill,” said the caterpillar.
“You’re a fool! I’m trying to save you!” said the serpent adamantly.
“Perhaps I have to die as a worm in order to live as a butterfly,” was the response. As the caterpillar said this, the last of the silk encapsulated him and he was gone.
Inside, he could feel himself dissolving. Maybe the snake had been right. It seemed that he’d built his own sarcophagus of silk! He was in pain. The very elements that made him were shifting, and it was brutal. He cried out to the One, but there was no answer. “Help me. I’m here,” he pleaded, but the pain continued. His organs, skin and eyes disappeared. He was blind and raw and afraid.
The caterpillar remained in his crucible for two days. On the third day, he saw light. He stretched and pushed until he found himself on the same branch on which he was born. The snake was waiting.
A beautiful butterfly
“Hello, butterfly,” said the snake.
The worm, now a butterfly, shook his wings and spread them out to dry. They were beautiful stained-glass masterpieces that caught the sun’s rays and suggested glory.
“I see you, my friend,” said the butterfly to the snake. “Thank you so much for all of your help.”
“You took none of my advice, so I think I wasn’t of any help at all,” replied the snake.
“Without the doubt that you gave me, I would never have really known who I am,” replied the beautiful, shining and delicate creature.
“You’re lucky in the world, butterfly. Some of us are born on our bellies and we die on our bellies. We eat the dust of life and are despised for our position. Yet, I’m the shadow that informs you of light. I’m the darkness without which there’s no dawn. I am what I am every bit as much as you and yet there are no wings awaiting me,” said the serpent.
“We’re all winged, serpent, just at different times. You’ve served your purpose admirably and you’re exactly as you say you are. I’m living proof that all butterflies were once worms, just as all saints were once sinners. We’re all winged, my friend. Yours are on the inside,” said the butterfly.
“God bless you,” said the snake.
“God bless you,” said the butterfly.
[su_panel background=”#f2f2f2″ color=”#000000″ border=”0px none #ffffff” shadow=”0px 0px 0px #ffffff”]Kathy lives in the Midwest (U.S.) with her significant other, their four horses, three dogs and a sweet old cat. In between feeding and vacuuming, she writes.
