Book of stories

The Butterfly and the caterpillar

I want to tell you a bizarre story, but at the same time that makes you think, a story that is almost far-fetched, a story....
Well to make you understand, let me tell it. It was a spring day, and the sun was barely warming, and among the countryside, in the meadow, among the bright and colorful flowers, were flying beautiful butterflies, more unique than rare, with brightly colored wings. There was one in particular, with blue wings, ice white and diaphanous, almost as if it had touched the sky and this had transferred its color. She was the envy of the whole group, but she had a defect...she was as beautiful as she was arrogant and boastful; she treated badly anyone she deemed not up to her standards. Also on that sunny spring day, a small caterpillar came across the butterflies, and asked them if he could join. But the butterfly with its celestial wings said no, because (well, if you have ever seen a caterpillar, you can understand why) the poor caterpillar, unlike the butterfly, was ugly, clumsy, a bit of a lump, and she saw him as almost worthless, or even without any value at all. The caterpillar, hearing so many bad things about himself, and the abrupt way in which the butterfly had chased him away, left all disconsolate and hurt. A year went by from that day, the butterflies went on with their usual life, until a butterfly appeared with wings that looked like a Salvador Dali's canvas, they were red like the setting sun, orange like the color of the fire in the fireplace in winter, and finally yellow like the sand in summer. The other butterflies were very envious of her, but still they tried to befriend her, so it made the group even more envious. The butterfly laughed out loud, and said that they wanted her now because she was beautiful, but long ago they had rejected her because she was ugly. And that she would rather be alone, without anyone, than be with them. They understood that it was the caterpillar and left as he had left that time, sad and disconsolate. The caterpillar, now a butterfly, had many friends, and certainly did not disdain the company of other caterpillars.