Saturday, December 6, 2014

Gomphocarpus physocarpus" swan plant









This can be a story of the life cycle of the butterfly. But this is beyond this. In two days time, Patrick Martin would have been celebrating his 10th birthday. He should probably be playing in Junior rugby or rugby league. His mum Louise would be busy preparing for his birthday party. But there is none of these going to happen. Louise's heart is heavy and she knows she is dreading the day.

I wasn't here when this happened. It was a stroke of unusual circumstance that Louise and I became friends. We were at a workshop and she invited me to sit beside her. I introduced myself as a bereaved mum, and Louise touched my arm. She whispered, I am too. It was as if that touch and soft words were magical. We became friends.

On Friday, I was sitting outside the clump of swan plants teaching some students. A Monarch butterfly landed on my shoulder. I taught my kids with this song Butterfly, my butterfly, wait for me don't fly away, I told the students, it is natural for the butterflies to fly away when they are ready.

But in the case of Patrick, it was far from being natural. I looked up the archives, It was a very tragic case. 




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