My siblings captured two caterpillars and feed them with lemon leaves. They apparently turned into chrysalises and then morphed themselves into two beautiful butterflies. The process took around 3 weeks, from small caterpillars until they were ready to take their new adventures with their splendid-coloured wings.
I really wanted to see how they hatched, but alas, I could never have the privilege for both.
It's odd though, the night before the last chrysalis was hatched, my friend's only child was died. The infant was in their family for around a week. I keep wondering about the feeling of a father or a mother whose infant had only come in to the family in a very short time. In fact, I dare not to.
But I know in some ways, butterflies often serves as some kind of... metaphor for spiritual journeys.
Coincidence? Well...
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