Butterflies
One day the Creator was resting, sitting, watching some children at play in a village. The children laughed and sang, yet as he watched them, the Creator's heart was sad. He was thinking "These children will grow old. Their skin will become wrinkled. Their hair will turn gray. Their teeth will fall out. The young hunter's arm will fail and those lovely young girls will grow ugly and fat. Those playful puppies over there will become thin, blind mangy
dogs. And
all of those wonderful flowers yellow, blue, red and purple and orange will fade. Already the leaves of the trees are turning yellow and soon they will dry and fall to the
ground." The Creator grew sadder and sadder. It was the fall and the thought of the coming winter, with its bitter cold and the lack of game and green things to eat made his heart very heavy.
It was still warm and the sun was shining. The Creator watched the play of
sunshine and shadow on the ground, the yellow leaves being twirled here and
there by the wind. He saw the blue sky, the white cornmeal that the women ground and then he smiled "All those colors should be preserved. I'll make
something to gladden my heart and something for these children to look at
and enjoy."
The Creator took out his bag and began to gather things: a spot of sunlight, a handfull of blue from the sky, the white from the cornmeal, the shadow of
playing children, the blackness of a beautiful girl's hair, the yellow of the falling
leaves, the green of the pine needles, the red, purple and orange of the flowers
around him. All these things he put into his bag and then he added the songs
of the birds. He walked over to where the children were playing and called "Children, little children, this is for you" and he gave them his bag. "Open it, there's something nice inside" he told them.
The children opened the bag and suddenly hundreds and hundreds of colored butterflies flew out, dancing around the children's heads, settling in their
hair, and fluttering up to sip a bit of nectar from one flower or another. The
children were enchanted and said that they had never seen anything so beautiful. Then, the butterflies started to sing, and the children listened, smiling. A songbird came flying by landed on the
creator's shoulder and scolded him, saying: "It's not right to give our songs to these new, pretty things. You told us when you made us that every bird
would have his own song. And now you have passed them all around. Isn't it enough that you gave your new playthings the colors of the rainbow?"
"You're right said the Creator." I made one song for each bird, and I shouldn't have taken what belongs to you."
So the Creator took the songs from the butterflies, and that is why they are
silent. "They're beautiful even so!" he said.
This story has been retold from several sources to include:
American Indian Myths and Legends. Selected and Edited by Richard Erdoes and Alfonso Ortiz. Pantheon Books.New York.1984.
pp407-408,512-513.
Many Trails of Tears
Kateri's Journal Book 1
Please Visit Her Site!
"Butterfly Kisses"
"Butterfly Kisses was Recorded by Bob Carlisle
Sequenced by Deb Ackley, 11/8/98
deback@acd.net
MIDI Haven: http://midihaven.com/midi.html
Deb Ackley's MIDI Files
http://www.geocities.com/SunsetStrip/Alley/5800/index.html
Used With Permission
Page Last Updated August 28, 2004
Copyright 1999-2004
All Rights Reserved
