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Walking down a path through some woods in Georgia
in 1977, I saw a water puddle ahead on the path. I angled
my direction to go around it on the part of the path that
wasn't covered by water and mud. As I reached the
puddle, I was suddenly attacked!

Yet, I did nothing, for the attack was so unpredictable
and from a source so totally unexpected. I was startled
as well as unhurt, despite having been struck four or five
times already. I backed up a foot and my attacker stopped
attacking me. Instead of attacking more, he hovered in the
air on graceful butterfly wings in front of me.

Had I been hurt I wouldn't have found it amusing, but
I was unhurt, it was funny, and I was laughing. After all,
I was being attacked by a butterfly!

Having stopped laughing, I took a step forward. My
attacker rushed me again. He rammed me in the chest
with his head and body, striking me over and over again
with all his might, still to no avail. For a second time,
I retreated a step while my attacker relented in his attack.
Yet again, I tried moving forward.

My attacker charged me again. I was rammed in the
chest over and over again. I wasn't sure what to do,
other than to retreat a third time. After all, it's just
not everyday that one is attacked by a butterfly. This
time, though, I stepped back several paces to look the
situation over. My attacker moved back as well to
land on the ground. That's when I discovered why
my attacker was charging me only moments earlier.

He had a mate and she was dying. She was beside
the puddle where he landed. Sitting close beside her,
he opened and closed his wings as if to fan her. I could
only admire the love and courage of that butterfly in his
concern for his mate. He had taken it upon himself to
attack me for his mate's sake, even though she was clearly
dying and I was so large. He did so just to give her those
extra few precious moments of life, should I have been
careless enough to step on her.

Now I knew why and what he was fighting for. There was
really only one option left for me. I carefully made my
way around the puddle to the other side of the path,
though it was only inches wide and extremely muddy.
His courage in attacking something thousands of times
larger and heavier than himself just for his mate's
safety justified it. I couldn't do anything other than
reward him by walking on the more difficult side of
the puddle. He had truly earned those moments to be
with her, undisturbed. I left them in peace for those last
few moments, cleaning the mud from my boots
when I later reached my car.

Since then, I've always tried to remember the courage
of that butterfly whenever I see huge obstacles
facing me. I use that butterfly's courage as an inspiration
and to remind myself...
that good things are worth fighting for.

-- By David L. Kuzminski


I thought this was beautiful when Hunter sent it and wanted to share it.

Thank you Hunter

:: smooch::