True Story of Courage and Love
also published as “Butterfly Courage”
down a path through some woods in Georgia in 1977, 1 saw a water puddle ahead on
the path. I
I did nothing for the attack was so unpredictable and from a source so totally
unexpected. I was startled as well as unhurt, despite having been struck four or
five times already. I backed up a
foot and my attacker stopped attacking me.
Instead of attacking more, he hovered in the air on graceful butterfly
wings in front of me. Had I been
hurt I wouldn’t have found it amusing, but I was unhurt, it was funny, and I
was laughing. After all, I was
being attacked by a butterfly!
stopped laughing, I took a step forward. My
attacker rushed me again. He rammed
me in the chest with his head and body, striking me over and over again with all
his might, still to no avail. For a
second time, I retreated a step while my attacker relented in his attack.
again, I tried moving forward. My
attacker charged me again. I was
rammed in the chest over and over again. I wasn’t sure what to do, other than
to retreat a third time, after all, it’s just not everyday that one is
attacked by a butterfly. This time, though, I stepped back several paces to look
the situation over. My attacker moved back as well to land on the ground.
That’s when I discovered why my attacker was charging me only moments
had a mate and she was dying. She
was beside the puddle where he landed. Sitting
close beside her, he opened and closed his wings as if to fan her.
I could only admire the love and courage of that butterfly in his concern
for his mate. He had taken it upon himself to attack me for his mate’s sake,
even though she was clearly dying and I was so large.
He did so just to give her those extra few precious moments of life,
should I have been careless enough to step on her.
I knew why and what he was fighting for. There
was really only one option left for me. I carefully made my way around the
puddle to the other side of the path, though it was only inches wide and
extremely muddy. His courage in
attacking something thousands of times larger and heavier than himself just for
his mate’s safety justified it. I
couldn’t do anything other than reward him by walking on the more difficult
side of the puddle. He had truly
earned those moments to be with her, undisturbed.
I left them in peace for those last few moments, cleaning the mud from my
boots when I later reached my car.
Since then, I’ve always tried to remember the courage of that butterfly whenever I see huge obstacles facing me. I use that butterfly’s courage as an inspiration and to remind myself that good things are worth fighting for.
1997 Dave Kuzminski
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