Yesterday, a miracle happened.

Yesterday, a miracle happened.

It started as a small caterpillar. Smaller than a pin, and almost as thin.

It grew up with another companion, who ate humongous amounts of fresh lime leaves, swelled, stretched, and turned from the yellow and black of babyhood to a plump, juicy green. With feelers and all.

While our little Miracle stayed small, and didn't eat much. Sometimes, we even forgot Miracle was there.

In two weeks the fat, huge (it really was the hugest of all the caterpillars we've reared) one turned into a green, satisfied cocoon, and emerged duly, the largest and most beautiful butterfly I'd ever seen.

It was then that I wrote "new everyday" and composed my poem based on this large one.

Then Miracle somehow realized it was being left behind and started to eat. Not much, just enough to start growing.

We plucked a handful of leaves for Miracle, thinking that it had just delayed its development until its companion left.

But no. Miracle ate a few leaves, then turned into a cocoon a few days after green started to appear. It hadn't even lost its black and yellow colouration completely.

Miracle's cocoon failed to stick to the side of the container. It also turned brown immediately (cocoons don't turn brown until after the butterfly emerges.)

We thought Miracle was dead.

But somehow none of us got round to disposing the container.

Then yesterday morning Miracle happened. Miracle is small, and was quite tottery at first, but it flew off from my window just before noon.

It's the large ones like Miracle's friend, Joy, who are encouraging. But it's the little ones like Miracle who are inspiring.




I have a souvenir patch of poop from Miracle on my lovely red batik fan. Gotta get round to washing it off. Yucks.