Die RAUPE, die nicht FLIEGEN wollte

Bild1qqVon Curtis Peter Van Gorder
Winston war gerade aus seinem Ei geschlüpft – eine neue haarige Raupe geboren in eine gefährliche neue Welt. Aber Winston war klug. Er würde überleben, sogar bestens gedei-hen. Winston hatte nämlich einen immensen Appetit und wuchs rasend schnell.
Ab und zu unterbrach Winston sein unaufhörliches Mamp-fen, um sich ein wenig umzuschauen. Über dem Gebüsch, in dem er lebte, erstreckte sich ein weiter blauer Himmel, unter ihm nur Erde. Er hatte keine Vorstellung, wo er hergekom-men war. Er vermutete, er wäre einfach durch Zufall ent-standen. Oder er hätte sich selbst erschaffen
Manchmal meinte er, schattenhafte Figuren vorbeihuschen zu sehen, aber er tat sie als freie Erfindung seiner Phantasie ab. Sie gehörten eindeutig nicht zu seiner kleinen Welt im Gebüsch.
Eines Tages ließ sich aber eines dieser Schattenwesen genau neben ihm nieder. Erschrocken schaute Winston von seinem Mampfen auf. „Wer bist Du?” platzte er heraus.
„Erkennst du deinesgleichen nicht? Ich bin ein Schmetter-ling, so wie du auch mal einer werden wirst. Du wirst dieses kleine Gebüsch hinter dir lassen, mit dem Wind dahin gleiten und die Welt sehen, wie sie wirklich ist.”
„Ich? Ein Schmetterling? Pah!”, protestierte Winston. „Ich bin eine Raupe. Punkt. Wenn du mich jetzt entschuldigen würdest…”
„Es funktioniert nun mal so”, versuchte der Schmetterling geduldig zu erklären. „Erst spinnst du einen Kokon um dich herum. Dann legst du dich für ein paar Wochen schlafen. Dann wachst Du auf, weil es dich überall kribbelt. Das sind die Säfte, die in deine Flügel fließen, die dir wuchsen, wäh-rend du schliefst. Du wackelst mit deinen Füßen und ent-deckst, dass du statt der Dutzend vorher, nur noch sechs besitzt – dafür sind sie viel länger! Dann fängst du an, Platz-angst in deinem Kokon zu bekommen – richtig panisch – und du schaffst dir einen Weg hinaus. Dann testest du deine neue Gestalt, schlägst ein paar Mal mit den Flügeln und schon kannst du dich in die Lüfte erheben.”
„Unsinn!” erwiderte Winston. „Hältst du mich für einen Idio-ten? Ich bin eine Raupe!”
Der Schmetterling versuchte noch mit verschiedenen Ar-gumenten ihn zu überzeugen, aber gab schließlich auf. „Tu was du willst”, sagte er traurig, bevor er davon flog.
Jedes Mal, wenn Winston an den folgenden Tagen an den Schmetterling dachte, musste er grinsen, und sagte sich jedes Mal ein bisschen mehr überzeugt: „Unsinn!!”
Dann eines Tages, meinte Winston ein Flüstern zu ver-nehmen. „Spinne einen Kokon.” Die Stimme kam von innen heraus, aber es war nicht seine. „So was Verrücktes!“, dach-te er, und ging mit einem Schulterzucken darüber hinweg.
Und das führt uns schon zu dem traurigen Ende der Ge-schichte. Der Winter kam, die Blätter, die Winston so sehr liebte, verwelkten, starben ab und flatterten zu Boden, und bald folgte ihnen der arme Winston nach.
Kommt dir das bekannt vor? Einige Menschen sind wie Winston – so todsicher überzeugt, dass ihre Wahrnehmung des Lebens die einzig Richtige ist, dass sie das wirklich Wichtige verpassen.



The Caterpillar Who Didn’t Want to Become a Butterfly

by Peter van Gorder


Winston had just hatched from his egg — A new hairy caterpillar born into a new hairy world. He grew quickly as he had a voracious appetite. In fact, he had only one goal in life — to eat as many leaves in as short a time as possible.

Sometimes Winston would momentarily cease from his incessant munching to look up at the world around him. Above the tree, on which he lived, was the sky, below the dirt. He never saw his parents and he didn’t know where he had come from so he began to think that he had evolved by chance or perhaps he had even created himself. But he didn’t think about these things for too long before he was back to munching.

Sometimes, he saw some shadowy shapes flitting about, but he dismissed them as figments of his imagination, as they were not of his earthbound world.

Then to his surprise, one day a butterfly alighted next to him. Winston looked up from his munching for a minute. “Who are you?”

“Don’t you recognize your own kind? I’m a butterfly. And so will you be. One day you will fly in the wind and visit flowers to eat their pollen.”

“Pollen? I only eat leaves. Eating leaves is all I know and all I want to know.

Me? A butterfly? Nah, I’m a caterpillar – period. Now excuse me, I have to get back to my munching.”

The butterfly patiently tried to explain, “It works like this: First you spin the cocoon, then you wait for some weeks, then you wake up one day hatching out of it. Blood starts to flow through your wings and soon you are airborne.”

“Sounds like a fairy tale to me. Like frog turns to prince by kissing a maiden.”

“Ok, doubter, have it your way. I’m outta here,” the butterfly said as he flew off.

Winston returned to his munching. Even though a voice inside him told him to build that cocoon, he shrugged it off.

I’m too busy making a living munching to build a cocoon. He thought to himself.

The sad ending of the story is that Winston froze to death during the winter. The leaves that he loved to munch so much had withered and fluttered to the ground and Winston soon joined them.

Does this parable sound familiar? Some people are like Winston — so busy trying to make a living that they don’t take time to prepare for their eternal future.

How sad when some refuse Jesus’ gift of eternal life. The realities of the Sprit World are far greater than the amazing metamorphosis of the butterfly.


The Butterfly Collector

The Butterfly Collector
By Curtis Peter van Gorder

A photo of our butterfly visitor on Christmas Day

As I was researching material for a short story I was writing about an eccentric antique dealer who collected rare butterflies and stories about the same, I came across a fascinating website that revealed a rich resource of true miracle stories involving butterflies.

I was amazed at the vast quantity of such stories – some 340 pages worth relating hundreds of experiences! -And these were only the stories that had been sent in. How many more stories went untold of butterflies that had changed someone’s life? One thing that struck me was how big of an impact the tiny butterfly has had on the lives of us mortals throughout the ages. How incredible it is that such a small insect with such a brief lifespan of only 2-3 weeks has touched our emotions and psyche so deeply. In this regard, their lives are reminiscent of Christ’s brief 3 years of earthly ministry before his triumph over the grave.

Almost every culture has stories or legends about butterflies as symbolic of the soul. For example, according to people of certain areas of Mexico, Monarch butterflies carry the spirits of dead ancestors to visit. They arrive each year on (or near) the Day of the Dead (November 2), to visit and to take the souls of the newly-departed away with them. For the ancient Greeks, the transformation of butterfly from pupa to adult was a metaphor of the soul’s resurrection and immortality. The experiences I read on this site seemed to legitimize the legends.

A common thread running throughout the accounts of butterfly encounters was how these wondrous creatures comforted people in a particularly difficult time in their life. Many told of how they had lost a loved one and had asked for a sign from heaven that their loved one was happy in their next life.

Some people told of when they were severely depressed, the appearance of butterflies enlightened their outlook on life. One account goes like this:
There was a point in my life when I was certain that I simply did not wish to continue waking up each morning. I felt alone and hopeless, and my misery and isolation was affecting everything and everyone around me. It was then, at the lowest point of my life that a butterfly saved me. Every day, it seemed, a butterfly would somehow make its way into my life.

Friends began giving me gifts which involved butterflies. I would see pictures or read stories about butterflies. The word itself appeared everywhere I chanced to look. Every day, relentlessly, I discovered something that had to do with butterflies. I have always enjoyed the symbolism of the butterfly: freedom and transformation. I couldn’t escape the fact that someone or something was trying to let me know that, no matter how I was feeling then, that life is worth living and discovering, that I would never be alone, nor ever had been.

I began to slowly admit to myself that my problems were not going to disappear, that if I continued to ignore my feelings, I would never be whole. All along the way, the image of the butterfly was with me – A constant reminder to see beauty, to laugh, to acknowledge the bad things, but to let them pass over me instead of locking them inside myself.

Now, I wake up each morning thankful to have that day to live. Every moment is special for me, because I came so close to giving them all up. I wear a butterfly earring, a gift from a friend, and it helps me to keep my perspective. Seeing the beauty of this world and of this life is a choice; the serenity and joy of the butterfly helped me to rediscover this truth and to keep it close to my heart.”

After reading so many of these fantastic stories I had to wonder if butterflies could work their magic for me. It was Christmas time and I was missing my oldest daughter who had passed away 7 years ago.
One evening, I prayed asking for a butterfly sign from her, and then forgot about it. The next day as we were leaving from a show we were performing in a distant rural area, a colorful butterfly fluttered by me as if to say ‘goodbye’ – ‘I love you’. Then as I was relating the story to my friend who was driving, a butterfly floated in front of our windshield as if to say, ‘I am still with you’.

Yet, my most remarkable butterfly encounter occurred on Christmas Day. As our family was gathered around the tree, opening presents, and enjoying each other’s companionship; a butterfly floated into the room and rested near the light. It stayed with us all day and all that night. The next morning it was gone. It had completed its mission. We were encouraged and thankful for its visit feeling this was a sign of love to us from our loved one from beyond.

Of course, our encouragement and comfort are not dependent on such signs, yet they are appreciated nonetheless. God’s Word promised that if we ask we will receive. (Mt.7:7). Something you might be able to take away from this is that if you need some comfort or direction in your life, ask God and He will send His messengers to your aid, in whatever form they may take – with or without wings.