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Fly

Butterfly found Moth on a bush,
just waking up at twilight.
"This is terrible," she said immediately,
fluttering up from the ground. "I can't
fly well at all,
and nobody will help me.
I tried talking to

Bee, but she was too busy.
Gnat was scared of my bigger wings, and
Dragonfly was jealous of them.
Wasp didn't care;
Mosquito just made fun of me."

Moth said, "That does sound terrible."
"You have no idea," said Butterfly.
"I'd help you," mused Moth, "but
we're hardly awake at the same time."

As if to prove his point,
night fell and the moon rose.
"It's time for me to go," said Moth.
He patted Butterfly on the shoulder
and flew away.

Butterfly felt abandoned.
She settled in the bush and
closed her eyes, but didn't sleep at all,
and she didn't move when morning came.
The whole day went by as she
huddled in that bush.

She would have
stayed there forever,
but twilight brought the gardener
as it arrived again.

"Butterfly," he said, bending down,
"what are you doing out here?"

"I can't fly," she sniffled, and began to cry.

"Oh, one doesn't learn to fly
all at once," said the gardener, smiling
and wiping her tears with gentle hands.
"You must keep trying."

Butterfly frowned and said,
"But nobody will help me. I'm
beginning to think that
I will never fly like the others,
that I will only ever flutter along
in the dirt."

"Come to my garden, then," said
the gardener. "I will teach you
how to fly. I have a special place
for you to rest when you get tired,
and I will always be there
to catch you when you fall."

He lifted her in his palm
and looked her in the eye,
waiting for an answer.
Butterfly drew strength from the warmth
of his skin and thought to herself,
Perhaps I will soar in the sky
someday.

So Butterfly got up,
shook her wings out,
and followed the gardener home,
one faltering flight at a time.