THE MARIPOSA BUTTERFLY

By R. Edward Miller

 

R. Edward Miller March 11, 1989

Dr. Gleesom, a distinguished, jolly and genuinely compassionate scientist, lived in a large mountain meadow on the banks of the Calapooya River. This river flowed out of the mysterious Cascade Mountains on the eastern border of the great Willamette Valley. The pure white waters of the strikingly beautiful river came from deep snows that covered the misty Cascade Mountains every winter. Dr. Gleesom had many neighbors alongside the river who nicknamed him "Doc Gleeful" because he was always so happy in his wooded retreat. He frequently fascinated his friends with odd ideas concerning the interesting and beautiful creatures of that region of the valley.

At one point of time, Dr. Gleesom, an eminent entomologist, was studying a certain kind of worm that sometimes could be found living in his garden near the cool mountain stream. This unusual worm, related to the well-known measuring worm (or inch worm), had some very odd habits. Having already made a major study about the life and habits of the ordinary measuring worm, the good Dr. Gleesom -- always captivated by the fascinating fauna of that area -- decided to study the life of its cousin known by the Latin name "Sapiens-Homey." However, for convenience sake, the mountain people of that locality nicknamed the little creatures "Sappies."

The common measuring worm is a little green worm about an inch long which has four feet in front, four feet behind and no feet in between; this pedal arrangement creates a very peculiar walking pattern. When the measuring worm moves with its eight little feet, it has to bring its hind feet up close to where its front feet are (naturally, because there are no feet in between). In order to walk, the little measuring worm must hunch its back up to its limit, then stretch its tiny body out to full length in order to go forward again. When walking (if you can call this walking) the worm looks and acts as though it’s measuring the ground or object beneath its tiny feet.

The Sappies are somewhat like their relatives: in size, they also are about an inch long; in color, they appear similar to a yellow autumn leaf. Yet, unlike their cousins, Sappies have only two hind feet and two grasping little feet tucked right up under their chins. Because they were the oddest little creatures Dr. Gleesom had ever seen, they greatly intrigued him. In fact, the more he studied these strange little creatures, the more fond of them he became. The Sappies had the unusual habit of measuring everywhere they walked, always creeping slowly around measuring out their tiny squares in which to live. After all their careful work, they settled down and lived comfortably in their measured-out little lots. If another foolish little Sappie should trespass on a neighbor’s well-defined boundaries, a battle would ensue. Any Sappie who claimed a part of its neighbor’s lot for itself had to be prepared for a vociferous and angry squabble.

These strange little Sappies lived in the beautiful valley under a high and wide-spreading maple tree whose fallen leaves became their homes. After measuring out little plots of ground around fallen maple leaves, these Sappies would move in and enjoy home-life. Then these foolish little creatures would proceed to chew up their "leaf homes" until they had literally "eaten themselves out of house and home."

As Dr. Gleesom continued to study the ways and habits of these little Sappies, he discovered that they were an amazingly intelligent bit of animal matter whose strange little eyes could only see up to three inches ahead of them. Indeed, they were so nearsighted that anything beyond that short distance quickly blurred into non-existence. Their tiny and extremely sensitive little ears could only hear high-pitched sounds in the ultra-high-frequency range. Their miniature but sensitive feelers were about two millimeters long and functioned as their unique sense of touch. In spite of all their odd ways and tiny size, the Sappie’s intelligence was considerably superior to that of all the other worms in Worm World.

After long and careful study -- in which the Good Doctor had to invent and utilize some of the most modern and ultra-sensitive electronic instruments imaginable -- he discovered that these little worms had their own highly developed system of communication. They spoke a definite language which was quite understandable by others of their kind. Sappie communication was carried on by emitting faint squeaks, peeps and other ultra-high-pitched chatterings. After careful tuning of his delicate instruments and studious analysis of the Sappies’ noises, Doc Gleeful was finally able to decipher their language. In time he learned to understand what the little creatures were talking about. How utterly amazed he was by the tiny thoughts and ideas that occupied their little world!

Like any other intelligent creatures, these tiny Sappies were mainly interested in "little folksy things." They spoke of how their baby worms were developing and learning to act like grown-ups . . . how difficult it was to find enough to eat . . . how they feared an imagined food shortage . . . and how to trade off their miniature lots in order to obtain better and larger ones.

The eligible young Sappies were busy trying to find a good husband or wife in order to set up a new household in nice curled-up leaves of their own. In fact, most of the young lady worms insisted that their youthful swains measure out new lots around nice big leaves before they would even consider the young gentleworms’ proposals of marriage.

At first, Dr. Gleesom found Sappie conversations intensely interesting. However, after discovering their capacities and learning their interesting worm language, he found their talk terribly circumscribed and trivial. Being so totally limited to the affairs of their tiny Worm World, their chatter became quite boring in but a short time. Every conversation chiefly centered around life under the spreading shade of the big maple tree. Because they knew nothing (or even cared) about what lay beyond that little hundred-foot radius, their conversations were exceedingly limited. Sappie life centered around their six-to-eight inch plots of land they thought they owned. Nothing beyond their houses of fallen maple leaves and little family events mattered to them.

Utterly ignorant and obviously oblivious to the high world of man -- and the far-off world of space -- these tiny creatures disregarded the beautiful garden in which their maple tree grew. . . Dr. Gleesom’s fine old family home and estate . . . the majestic mountains that lay beyond the garden . . . the exhilarating city life teeming with activity . . . the pleasant nearby towns. None of these beauties interested the little Sappies at all. All their conversations centered around how delicious, rich and healthy their leaves tasted; how comfortable the leaf houses were; and how adventuresome were the antics of their large and growing families.

In amazement Doc Gleeful discovered that the Sappies really did have religious concepts of sorts. Listening to their chatterings, after a sad accident -- in which a huge sparrow had swooped down and eaten up four worms -- the doctor discovered that these Sappies could express sadness. How they wept for their fallen comrades who had been so cruelly snatched away! He also learned that the Sappies had some sort of a concept of "a hereafter for worms." They believed in a great "worm god" who lived in Worm Heaven -- though not one of them had ever seen him. As to whether their god might have -- or might not have -- made their great maple tree world, they were not certain; however, the little Sappies did believe that when they died they would go to some kind of Worm Heaven somewhere.

Convinced that there must be some kind of a "worm god," the Sappies believed that he was so great and powerful that he owned the whole maple tree. He was a gigantic super-worm about a yard long who lived in the upper branches of their big tree. Nevertheless, because they really knew so little about this unknown god, they seldom talked about him. By listening carefully, Dr. Gleesom had been able to piece together the pattern of their tiny ideas. As the Sappies’ life span was only two months, they concluded that all good little worms< would go up to live in the upper branches of the great maple tree, and all >bad little worms< would be brutally flayed and eaten alive by that powerful "worm god." Not too sure about the reality of an afterlife, no Sappie put much stock in the truth of these strange rumors. After all, no Sappie had ever seen this "worm god," and their religious concepts had only been handed down from father to son for many generations.

Dr. Gleesom was deeply grieved and simply appalled by these silly ideas and gross errors which the Sappies believed and discussed in their tiny Worm World. Concluding that he must attempt to increase their knowledge, he promptly decided that the only thing to do was to try to correct these terrible errors concerning the "worm god." Perhaps in this way he could make life better for these tiny, helpless (yet intelligent beings) who could talk and think, laugh and cry, and carry on their simple lives successfully -- but tragically with so much unrealized potential.

After carefully learning to speak the Sappie language, Dr. Gleesom tried to communicate with them. Lying down on the grass close to one of their finer specimens, he began to talk to him softly in his best simulation of the worm language. Unfortunately, the doctor could not imitate the high-frequency sounds of the Sappie, and the low vibrations of his voice only gave this little creature a very strange, sad feeling in his liver. Quickly measuring himself away from the spot where the Good Doctor lay, the Sappie hid himself in his tiny leaf house. Furiously he began to eat up his house in order to comfort himself and to restore his security that had been so strangely threatened.

When the Good Doctor tried to lift this little Sappie in his hand to show him the other world in which he lived, he quickly realized he’d so frightened the quivering little worm that in pure mercy he soon put him down again. Being such a happy and patient soul, Dr. Gleesom next tried to lift another intelligent little Sappie onto an exquisitely beautiful red rose growing nearby, thinking that the intelligent little Sappie would appreciate the sheer beauty of that gorgeous flower. Instead of being happy, the little Sappie became so frightened and shocked that all he could do was to stand on his two hind feet and squeal in terror. Ending his unsuccessful experiment, Dr. Gleesom then returned the terrified little Sappie to his tiny world and placed him back under his maple leaf.

Returning to his confined little Worm World, the tiny traveling Sappie told all his neighbors of his frightening experience in that terrible, rosy land high up in the air. Hearing such a far-out tale, his fellow Sappies thought he had turned "crazy in the head" and treated him like an outcast from that day on.

Finally, Dr. Gleesom thought of another way to establish contact with the little Sappies. Catching a beautiful mariposa butterfly, he then tied it close to the ground under the big maple tree with a short silken thread. His purpose was to show the little worms a specimen of what they would become in their "afterlife." But unfortunately, these little Sapiens-Homey worms couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to turn into beautiful mariposa butterflies.

Displaying vibrant colors of brightest hue and spreading wide its gossamer wings, the mariposa butterfly looked like a magnificent angel of wondrous beauty come down from heaven into Sappie World. But even as the mariposa butterfly displayed its "other worldly" beauty, the poor little Sappies (nearly blind) neither saw it nor heard it. When the silken wings of the beautiful creature touched a Sappie’s tiny sensitive antennae, he quickly measured himself away with the greatest possible speed. Peeping and squeaking in fear, he was certain he was about to be devoured. Rumors spread quickly which warned the other little Sappies to carefully avoid that strange place. This frightened little Sappie confidently declared that the whole area must be inhabited by a destroying spirit of some sort because he felt dread and dismay each time he drew near to that awesome place. He surely didn’t like it.

As he thought and thought, Dr. Gleesom questioned, "How in all the intelligence of Worm World am I going to be able to communicate with them?" Carefully studying the problem and researching diligently, the doctor discovered that the older and wiser Sappies had reduced their peeps and squeaks to writing. In fact, he observed that they even wrote some of their communications on bits of leaves and other things. As the Good Doctor’s consuming concern was to communicate with these tiny creatures and to improve their knowledge, he came up with a brilliant idea.

Knowing he could not talk to them directly (for they could not hear or understand his voice) and he could not touch them (as it frightened them almost out of measure), Dr. Gleesom decided to write to them. After much study of their hieroglyphics through a powerful microscope, he finally succeeded in deciphering their writings and reading their tiny "books." Perusing their little leaf books only saddened the Good Doctor because these little Sappies squandered so much effort and time on such trivial subjects. Worm families, leaf houses, worm politics and worm squabbles filled the miniature pages. They wrote nothing at all that would be beneficial or constructive to their worm futures.

On a fine paper roll of tiny dimensions -- just the right size for the Sappies -- the doctor wrote many instructive things for them to read in their own language. First, he described his home in the garden where the Sappies lived. Next, he clearly explained that his father had planned the garden some seventy-five years before (which was a long time to little Sappies who lived but two months at best). After telling them that his father had planted all the flowers, shrubs and trees, Doc Gleeful mentioned that everyone who lives in this garden is both welcome and well-loved.

"In the beginning," the Good Doctor wrote, "the Sappie race lived in peace and comfort. However, little by little the Sappies became so greedy and selfish that they began to fight over their rights. They argued and finally insisted on measuring out individual plots for themselves." After that, he began to share with them about himself: how he lived in a very fine house; how he really loved them; and how he often listened to their chatter and studied them. "Some day," he promised, "you will ascend on lovely mariposa butterfly wings; you will be like pretty angels and live with me in my beautiful garden.

"I’ve always loved to talk to you," Doc Gleeful explained. "In fact, I often spoke to you, but you could not stand to hear my voice. I decided that the only way I could communicate with you was through these letters. If you would only be aware of those peculiar feelings in your liver (caused by the deep vibrations of my voice), you could hear me talk to you. If you wanted to, you could even learn to communicate with me. If you’d only try to communicate with me, I’d be glad to listen and respond. If you’d only allow me to, I’d carefully take care of you and watch over you all your days."

After that, Dr. Gleesom wrote several lovely little letters on different subjects. He explained many things: how man lived in this great world; how he had conquered the whole planet; how he could even fly to the moon; and how he had mastered this gigantic earth.

Then broaching a very sensitive subject, the doctor mentioned that the real God was not at all like they thought him to be -- a huge, super, yard-long worm who lived in the spreading maple tree. He emphasized that there was no such thing as a Worm Heaven in the top of the maple tree and, certainly, there was no "worm god" a yard long living up there.

Without really going into detail, for he knew full well that any further explanation would be too difficult for them to understand, the Good Doctor gave them a comprehensive view of the higher life of man. "Man’s world is really so much higher than your Sappie world," he explained. "Unfortunately, you cannot possibly understand it in your present Sappie state. But when you are changed into mariposa butterflies," he promised, "then you’ll come into the beautiful new world and you will understand.

"Once you are changed into amazingly beautiful creatures, you will live in a paradisiacal garden and drink the finest nectar from the most delightful flowers. Meanwhile," Dr. Gleesom added, "you’ll have to believe all I’m saying; you must implicitly trust my word. Everything I say to you is absolutely true! I have never lied to you about anything at any time -- nor will I ever lie to you." With infinite patience the Good Doctor shared many other details about the wonderful life of man with the little Sappies.

Then he gently laid the rolls of writings down among the little Sappies . . . and you can well imagine what happened. One little Sappie (who knew how to read) found these rolls. After reading but a few lines, he laughed so hard he almost burst his esophagus at the absolute absurdity of "the books." The little Sappie said, "The message of `the books’ is the most ridiculous science fiction I have ever read!"

Another inquisitive Sappie read a bit for himself. In utter astonishment he reported; "This message must be some old Worm’s Tale!" Still another curious Sappie avidly began to read one of the rolls -- thoroughly enjoying it until he found that the Sappie idea of the "worm god" was completely false. "This revelation is preposterous!" The realization made him so angry he furiously ate half of the first roll. But he stopped eating because the paper made him terribly sick. After that, no other Sappie else ever dared eat any of the rolls, because their book-devouring worm brother never recovered.

As Dr. Gleesom carefully watched the Sappie readers, he became sadder by the minute. Finally, one little fellow (who could read alright but really was not considered one of the more intelligent leaders of Worm World) read through all the rolls, then just stood there amazed. "Is everything these books say really true?" he wondered. Then some very big thoughts began to stir in his little worm brain. "If what these rolls say is true," he reasoned, "then . . . where is that wonderful man-being called Dr. Gleesom?"

When the Good Doctor realized that at last a little Sappie actually believed in him, he spontaneously shouted at the top of his voice. "It’s true . . . of course it’s true!" Unfortunately, being so close to the little Sappie he almost blew him away with his breath. This made the little Sappie’s liver rumble so loudly that he scurried away to the shelter of a nearby leaf wherer he lay shivering in wonder. "What is that strange rumbling in my liver? What could it be?"

Recovering a bit of his courage, the wise little Sappie finally said to himself, "Can this really be the Good Doctor talking to me? I shall go out and see." Gathering sufficient strength, he returned to those same little rolls and again began to read. He found the place where they explained about one’s liver rumbling when the kind doctor was talking. In a squeaky little voice he questioned, "Doctor, is that YOU?" And sure enough, the happy doctor answered (more quietly this time), "Yes, it is I." And even as he spoke, back came that strange but wondrous rumbling in the little Sappie’s liver.

Squeakingly the little Sappie called, "Doctor, where ARE you?" And the Good Doctor -- whose large foot was only about four inches away from the little Sappie’s head -- called back, "Here . . . here I am right beside you!" But even that explanation was too much for little Sappie to grasp all at once. When his liver began to rumble again, he was surprised to find it didn’t hurt. In fact, it felt kind of nice -- like a sweet, warm massage on his insides. After that, the little Sappie didn’t get frightened at the doctor’s voice anymore.

By now, a few other interested Sappies had gathered and they let out a barrage of critical comments: "Our friendly little brother Sappie is losing his senses," they declared. "Imagine talking to some strange being whom no one can see . . . or hear . . . or touch!" Shaking their heads in disbelief at the wierd things some young worms were getting into their heads these days, all the older Sappies -- who considered themselves wise -- withdrew from the gathering. "Surely," they said as they left. "such odd little rolls (with their strange contents) ought to be burned and not allowed to disturb the inhabitants of Worm World."

Meanwhile, our friendly little Sappie went right on reading the rolls in spite of all their protests. "Perhaps there really IS a world much higher and different than our little Worm World, for now I know there really IS a Dr. Gleesom. Perhaps there is a beautiful garden. Perhaps these rolls ARE really true," he decided, "and best of all, perhaps there ARE mariposa butterflies! Perhaps someday I will be able to fly about in that beautiful garden and see the wonderful things in the high world of man." So the courageous and friendly little Sappie became the first believer. And little by little he discovered how to understand the strange rumblings in his liver.

By carefully listening, the little Sappie learned to know if the Good Doctor was angry or happy with him; in fact, he could almost carry on a conversation with him. Although he could never actually see him, the little Sappie sensed how close he was to Doc Gleeful. Whenever Sappie experienced those pleasant rumblings in his liver, he also learned to enjoy the doctor’s warm and pleasant breath that surrounded him.

One day the little Sappie believer asked the Good Doctor to take him up in his hand to show him his garden; the doctor did just that. "My, how nice and cozy and warm I feel in the hand of the Good Doctor," he thought. Of course, he couldn’t see the whole hand, but he could feel its warmth and sense its tenderness. How nice it felt to little Sappie to be tenderly cradled in the doctor’s gentle hand.

How exhilarated little Sappie felt when the doctor placed him on the bright face of a gold and blue pansy flower. For the very first time the little Sappie could see a different color and smell a different aroma. Being all of six inches off the ground, he suddenly concluded that he had been transported high into the Good Doctor’s garden.

Later, when little Sappie returned to Worm World and told the other Sappies (who would listen to him -- which weren’t many) all the wonderful things he had learned about the world of man, only a few believed. Few indeed were those that believed in that high world that surrounded them which they couldn’t see. Nevertheless, those few also began to get up enough courage to establish contact with the Good Doctor themselves.

Little by little Dr. Gleesom taught the believing Sappies about the wonderful world of man. Many of them became so anxious to live in the beautiful garden in the higher world that they quit their silly quarrels about their tiny plots of land. Who owned which lot and which leaf belonged to whom no longer mattered. By diligent effort they learned to read the great rolls or "THE BOOKS" as they called them. In fact, they became so well instructed that they could hardly wait for their turn to be changed into beautiful mariposa butterflies and fly around the doctor’s garden.

This wonderful turn of events made life for the Sappies much more interesting. They learned to live in peace and became quite proficient in talking with the good scientist who continued to teach his little Sappies all about his garden where they would live with him in the hereafter. One day they really did become beautiful butterflies and were able to fly about in the Good Doctor’s garden.

Rejoicing greatly they exclaimed, "Dr. Gleesom told us the truth!" Now transformed into gorgeous mariposa butterflies, the little Sappies would light on the Good Doctor’s hand, head or shoulder . . . they knew him at last! Listening attentively as he talked to them, they were delighted with him. They spent their time flying about, drinking in the sweet nectar of the Good Doctor’s finest flowers and living in peace and joy in his lovely garden.

 

RETURN TO ALEGORY INDEX

RETURN TO MAIN MENU