/   /  By Emma Birches
Stone Soup Magazine
November 2017

By Amy Zhou

Weirdly, I find Butterflies very interesting. Butterflies are quite beautiful and elegant. Maybe I like them because they were the first things I could draw besides shapes. Also it’s because my aunt taught me how to release a butterfly. But butterflies are bugs, and I hate bugs.

During summer break, I went to China and stayed at my aunt’s apartment for about a week. I learned that my aunt loved bugs and mainly butterflies. She took me outside one day to find butterfly eggs. I remember she said, “Every egg brings new life into the world and no life should be wasted.” These words were inspiring.

I went to sleep gazing out the window at the shining spiderwebs that seemed to have jewels on them. I heard Pidian, my aunt’s dog coming. Pidian is old and always stares at me with a questioning expression. She gazes out at the sky with me also thinking silently. I wonder if dogs have feelings and thoughts inside. Maybe bugs do too.

I observed her Butterflies and cocoons and caterpillars daily. The caterpillars were all different. Each with a unique marking. As I watched them more, I learned to like them more. I started to like them more and more.

“Do bugs have feelings ?” I asked my aunt.

“Well, if they have brains I suppose that they have feelings,” she responded.

“Why do you help them?” I asked.

“Well not all people are helpful, but small things help the world to be a better place you know,” said my aunt.

The next day, my aunt took me to find more eggs and caterpillars. We finally found one which was green and sparkly. Suddenly, a downpour of water from the gutter hit the tiny thing. My aunt brought it in, hoping it would live.

The next day, the caterpillar was no more. Overnight it had turned into a beautiful cocoon, leaf green with golden sparkles. It hung on a branch silently. It is waiting to go into the next part of its life. I wonder what it’s thinking about.

Pidian trots in and sits next to me for a while. It too is watching the golden spotted cocoon. It trots under my aunt’s bed, tired of watching and observing. One of my aunt’s butterflies is golden. Like an angel. That one, I can tell, is very happy to have wings and a meaning in life to someday have its own babies and for them to live on.

Then, finally, after one week, something happened. My cocoon had started to move. Slowly, like waking up from a deep slumber, was a butterfly. It’s wings were magnificent. They were sapphire blue with pitch black edgings, but it wasn’t free just yet. It couldn’t fly just yet.

When the sun was directly above our heads, we set it free. I stuck my hand in, and it backed away as if it wasn’t sure if it wanted to leave. Finally, it cautiously walked on my hand, and I lifted it out of the box. It fluttered in the sunshine and caught a breeze to a new kind of life. I could feel myself glowing with happiness inside, and as I went inside I was sure that there was a smile on my face. Because today I learned that everything has a meaning in life.

Sometimes Pidian falls and gets up or gets into some sort of trouble, but I always help it, just as I would for any other being. I know that Pidian remembers the butterfly and knows that it too, has come to this world with a purpose.

‘Butterflies’ by Moneerah Saoudy

Animals Amy Zhou

Amy Zhou, 11
Skillman, NJ

Butterflies Moneerah Saoudy

Moneerah Saoudy, 10
Eden Prairie, MN

About the Author

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  1. picopitt@aol.com November 2, 2017 at 6:01 pm Reply

    This is such a soulful and beautiful account… <3

  2. jbreweral May 1, 2018 at 12:52 pm Reply

    So nice

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