Once upon a time, as all good fairy tales begin, there was a tiny caterpillar who lived in a meadow. He spent his day as all caterpillars do--eating. He ate leaves in the morning, leaves in the afternoon, leaves in the evening, and leaves throughout the night. In the morning, he drank the dew from the tops of leaves, and in the hot sun, he nibbled on the underneath side of the leaves. He was eating and growing, exactly what caterpillars are meant to do.
After several days, a long stick with eyes and legs appeared, nibbling on the same leaf as the tiny caterpillar. He looked at the stick as he munched on the tasty leaf.
"Who are you?" Tiny Caterpillar asked.
Walter the Walking Stick squinted his eyes at the tiny caterpillar and said, "I am Walter the Walking Stick. You are a tiny caterpillar."
Tiny Caterpillar nodded, smiling through another mouthful of leaves. "Yep."
Walter glared at Tiny Caterpillar. "I am glad that I'm not a caterpillar. It's not the life for me."
Tiny Caterpillar spit out the remaining bits of leaf in his mouth. "Why?"
Walter smiled, "Because you're going to die."
Tiny Caterpillar shook his head. "We will all die. I'm going to be a beautiful butterfly one day. I'll be able to fly and visit all of the glorious flowers that I can only see right now."
Walter cleared his throat. "You should be a walking stick. We can camouflage ourselves to perfectly match whatever color we're on. You can't do that."
Tiny Caterpillar munched on some leaves. His eyes no longer bright; the leaves seemed to have lost their flavor.
"Besides," Walter announced, "no one can spot us. We can flex with the breeze. We blend right in with the sticks and stems around us. We are truly remarkable. Too bad you're not one of us. Oh well, you'll just have to settle for being a caterpillar."
Tiny Caterpillar sighed, unable to stop eating the leaves. He watched Walter nibble daintily on the leaf that they shared. He watched Walter sway in the breeze. He watched Walter change his shade to match the slightly different shade of green as their leaf was now in the shade. He noticed the way that Walter stood so regally before him.
Tiny Caterpillar shrunk away from the beautiful walking stick.
Walter's eyes twinkled, "Well, you can be like me if you try very hard."
Tiny Caterpillar perked up. "I can? What can I do to be just like you?"
"First, you must eat leaves."
"I can do that. I eat leaves." Tiny Caterpillar took an enormous mouthful of the leaf.
"Ah, no we don't eat like that. We take delicate bites. Like this," Walter coached and bite a small bit of leaf.
Tiny Caterpillar did the same, but his tummy growled because he was so hungry. He wondered how he would live on such small bites, but he reasoned with himself that it was worth it because he wanted Walter to help him.
"Now for the camouflage. You must stare at the color upon which you stand. Then breathe that color in, and your body will change."
Tiny Caterpillar stared at the leaf, a few shades darker green than he was. He breathed in the color, but his plump body did not change. He tried again and again. His color didn't change, but his tummy growled; the tiny polite bites were not right for him.
Tiny Caterpillar ate and sighed a lot. He thought about Walter who long since abondoned him. Tiny Caterpillar thought about how graceful Walter was and about how magical it was to change colors. Tiny Caterpillar tried to eat delicate bites and to change shades, but no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't.
Dragonfly landed on the leaf where Tiny Caterpillar moped.
"Why aren't you eating more, Tiny Caterpillar? You need to grow quickly so that you can transform into a butterfly."
Tiny Caterpillar sighed, "Well, I'm trying to be like Walter the Walking Stick. We nibble little bits at a time."
Dragonfly was puzzled.
Tiny Caterpillar looked down, ashamed to be called a caterpillar. "Walking sticks camouflage themselves. I can't do that. I tried everything that Walter said, but I'm the same shade of green no matter how hard I look or breathe. I want to be remarkable."
Dragonfly shook her head and asked, "Why are you trying to be like a walking stick when you are a caterpillar who will one day be a butterfly?"
Tiny Caterpillar hung his head even lower. "Walter said-"
Dragonfly interrupted him. "Well, what does Walter the Walking Stick know about being a caterpillar?"
Tiny Caterpillar looked into Dragonfly's eyes. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "He knows a lot. He said that he was glad that he wasn't a caterpillar."
Dragonfly looked into Tiny Caterpillar's questioning eyes. "Let me tell you about my life. I lived in the water for two years. I didn't have wings, and I wasn't glamorous at all. Now look at me. My wings carry me to beautiful places, and my wings shimmer in the sunlight. I am beautiful if I do say so myself. You are a caterpillar. Ok, you're not very glamorous right now. In fact, you're fattening up."
Tiny Caterpillar sighed looking down again.
Dragonfly continued, "But you are destined to transform into a delicate butterfly. That is magical. You will be remarkable. While walking sticks camouflage to hide, you will flutter, landing on delicate flowers. Others will notice you, and they'll see your beauty."
Tiny Caterpillar asked, "Do you really believe all of that?"
Dragonfly nodded. "Yes, you are destined to do what might seem impossible to some. For if I am right, you will transform into a monarch butterfly, who will overcome seemingly impossible odds to travel thousands of miles to join millions of other monarchs. You will see breathtaking sights, and you will survive violent winds. Your transformation will inspire others. You are magical just as you are."
Tiny Caterpillar yanked an enormous mouthful from his leaf. He closed his eyes, enjoying the delicious flavor that came from a particularly juicy leaf. He gulped several mouthfuls. "I am in heaven," he said.
Dragonfly smiled and flitted away.
Tiny Caterpillar thought about Walter the Walking Stick and Dragonfly. His tummy felt happy for the first time in days. He smiled, thinking of himself as delicate and able to fly. He felt grateful that he was a caterpillar and trusted that someday his transformation would occur. He would be a butterfly.
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