When straightening up the back yard last night I saw this little, white butterfly floating in our kiddie pool. I skipped back in the house, grabbed the camera and snapped a couple pictures of it. I liked the white against the blue background. It looked very peaceful.
The next morning, the boys scampered out into the yard and my youngest told me to come and see what was floating in the pool. I looked and said, “Aw, poor butterfly, it looks like it had a hurt wing. I guess it just didn’t make it!” I went back to what I was doing, when I soon heard my son squeal and say, “It is alive! Look, Mom, it’s flying!” I rushed back and sure enough, there was the butterfly flittering around. My youngest had reached his little hand under the moth and gently lifted him out of the water.
Never give up.
Sometimes all one needs is a little hand.
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