HOPE FOR THE FLOWERS
A tale - partly about life
partly about revolution
and lots about hope
for adults and others
(including caterpillars
who can read)
Words and pictures
by Trina Paulus
My thanks
to everyone
all over the world
who has helped me
believe in the butterfly.
This is the tale
of a caterpillar
who has trouble
becoming who
he really is.
It's like myself - like us.
Love,
Trina
Copyright 1972
CHAPTER I
Once upon a time
a tiny striped caterpillar
burst from the egg
which had been home
for so long.
"Hello world," he said.
"It sure is bright out here in the sun."
"I'm hungry," he thought
and straightway began to eat
the leaf he was born on.
And he ate another leaf . . . and another . . . and another.
And got bigger . . . and bigger ... and bigger . . .
Until one day he stopped
eating and thought,
"There must be more to life
than just eating and
getting bigger.
"It's getting dull."
"So Stripe crawled down
from the friendly tree
which had shaded and
fed him.
He was seeking more.
There were all sorts of new things
to find. Grass and dirt and holes
and tiny bugs - each fascinated him.
But nothing satisfied him.
When he came across some other
crawlers like himself he was
especially excited.
But they were so busy eating
they had no time to talk -
just as Stripe had been.
"They don't know any more
about life than I do," he sighed.
Then one day
Stripe saw some
crawlers really
crawling.
He looked around for
their goal and saw
a great column rising
high into the air.
When he joined them he discovered . . .
. . . the column was a pile of squirming,
pushing,
caterpillars -
a caterpillar pillar.
It appeared that the
caterpillars were trying
to reach the top -
but the top was so
lost in the clouds
that Stripe had no
idea what was there.
He felt new excitement -
like sap rising in the
spring.
"Maybe I'll find what
I'm looking for."
Full of agitation Stripe asked
a fellow crawler:
"Do you know what's happening?"
"I just arrived myself," said
the other. "Nobody has any time
to explain; they're so busy trying
to get wherever they're going -
up there."
"But what's at the top?"
continued Stripe.
"No one knows that either but it must
be awfully good because everybody's
rushing there. Goodbye; I've no
more time?"
He plunged into the pile.
Stripe's head was bursting with the
new drive. He couldn't get his
thoughts together. Every second
another crawler passed him and
disappeared into the pillar.
"There's only one thing to do."
He pushed himself in.
CHAPTER II
The first moments
on the pile
were a shock.
Stripe was pushed
and kicked
and stepped on
from every direction.
It was climb
or be climbed . . .
Stripe climbed.
No more fellow caterpillar's
on Stripe's pile -
they became only threats
and obstacles which he
turned into steps and
opportunities.
This single-minded approach
really helped and Stripe
felt he was getting much higher.
But some days it seemed
he could manage only to
keep his place. It was
especially then that an
anxious shadow nagged
inside. "What's at the
top?" it whispered.
"Where are we going?"
One exasperated day Stripe
couldn't stand it any longer
and actually yelled back:
"I don't know, but there's
no time to think about it!"
A little yellow caterpillar
he was crawling over gasped:
"What did you say?"
"I was just talking to
myself," Stripe mumbled.
"It really isn't important -
I was just wondering
where we're going?"
"You know," Yellow said,
"I was wondering that myself
but since there's no way to
find out I decided it wasn't
important." She blushed at
how silly this sounded - quickly
adding," No one else seems to
worry about where we're going
so it must be good." But she
blushed again. "How far are we
from the top?"
Stripe answered gravely,
"Since we're not at the
bottom and not at the top
we must be in the middle."
"Oh," said Yellow, and
they both began
climbing again.
But now
Stripe had
a new feeling.
He felt bad.
He had lost
his
singlemindedness.
"How can
I step on
someone
I've just
talked to?"
Stripe avoided Yellow as much
as possible, but one day there
she was, blocking the only way up.
"Well, I guess it's you or me,"
he said, and stepped squarely
on her head.
Something in the way
Yellow looked at him
made him feel just
awful about himself.
Like: no matter what
is up there - it just
isn't worth it.
Stripe
crawled off
Yellow and
whispered,
"I'm sorry."
And Yellow began to cry:
"I could stand this life hoping in what was
ahead until I met you talking to yourself
that day. Since then my heart just hasn't
been in it - but I don't know what to do.
"I didn't know how badly I felt about this
life until then. Now when you look at me
so kindly, I know for sure I don't like this
life. I just want to do something like
crawl with you and nibble grass."
Stripe's heart leapt inside.
Everything looked different.
The pillar made no sense at all.
"I would like that too," he whispered.
But this meant giving up the climb -
a hard decision.
Yellow dear, maybe we're close to the top.
Maybe if we help each other we can get
there quickly."
"Maybe," she said.
But they both knew this wasn't
what they wanted most.
"Let's go down," Yellow said.
"Okay." And they stopped
climbing.
They clung to each other as masses
of caterpillars crawled over them.
The air was terrible but they were
happy with each other and made a
big ball so nobody could step in their
eyes and stomachs.
They did nothing
at all for what
seemed a long time.
Suddenly they didn't
feel anything crawling
over them.
They unrolled and
opened their eyes.
They were at the
side of the
caterpillar pillar.
"Hi Stripe," said Yellow.
"Hi Yellow," said Stripe.
And they crawled off into
some fresh, green grass
to eat and take a nap.
Just before they fell asleep
Stripe hugged Yellow.
"Being together like this is
sure different than being
crushed in that crowd!"
"It sure is!"
She smiled and closed her eyes.
CHAPTER III
So Yellow and Stripe
romped in the grass
and ate
and grew fat
and loved each other.
They were so glad
not to be fighting
everybody
every moment.
It was like heaven for a while.
But as time passed
even hugging each other
seemed a little boring.
Each knew every hair of the other.
Stripe couldn't help wondering,
"There must be still more to life."
Yellow saw how restless he was and
tried to make him extra happy
and comfortable. "Just think how
much better this is than that awful
mess we left," she said.
"But we don't know what's at
the top," he answered.
"Maybe we were wrong to come
down. Maybe now that we've
rested the two of us could make
it to the top."
"Dear Stripe, please," she begged.
We have a nice home and we
love each other and that's enough.
It's so much more than all those
lonely climbers have."
She was so sure, Stripe
let her convince him.
But only for
awhile -
Stripe's hankering for the climbing
life worsened. The pillar haunted
him. He crawled there regularly,
looking up and wondering.
but the top remained clouded.
One day at the pillar, three thuds startled
Stripe. Three big caterpillars had
fallen from someplace and smashed.
Two seemed dead but one still wiggled.
Stripe whispered, "What happened?"
Can I help?"
He made out just a few words.
"The top . . . they'll see . . .
butterflies alone . . . "
The caterpillar died.
Stripe crawled home and
told Yellow.
They were both very sober
and quiet. What did the
mysterious message mean?
Had the caterpillars fallen
from the very top?
Finally Stripe announced:
"I've got to know. I must go and
find out the secret of the top."
And more gently,
"Will you come and help me?"
Yellow struggled inside.
She loved Stripe and wanted to be with him.
She wanted to help him succeed.
But - she just couldn't believe that
the top was worth all it asks to get there.
She wanted to get "up" too; the crawling
life wasn't enough for her either.
She also had to admit that it looked like
the pile was the only way to do it.
Stripe seemed so sure that Yellow felt
ashamed not to agree. She also felt stupid
and embarrassed since she could never put
her reasons into words that his kind of logic
would accept.
Yet somehow, waiting and not being sure
was better than action she couldn't
believe in.
She couldn't explain, she couldn't
prove anything - but for all her
love she couldn't go with Stripe.
She just knew climbing was a wrong
way to get high.
"No," she said, heartsick.
And Stripe left her
for his climb.
CHAPTER IV
Yellow was desolate
without Stripe.
She crawled daily to the pile looking
for him and returned home at night sad,
but half relieved that she never saw
him. If she had, she feared she might
plunge after him knowing that she
shouldn't.
She felt like doing something, anything,
rather than this uncertain waiting.
"What in the world do I
really want?" she sighed.
"It seems different
every few minutes."
"But I know there must be more.""
Finally, she became numb and wandered
away from everything familiar.
One day a grey-haired
caterpillar hanging
upside down on a branch
surprised her.
He seemed caught in
some hairy stuff.
"You seem in trouble,"
she said. "Can I help?"
"No, my dear, I have to do this
to become a butterfly."
Her whole insides leapt.
"Butterfly - that word," she thought.
"Tell me, sir, what is a butterfly?"
"It's what you are meant to
become. It flies with beautiful
wings and joins the earth to
heaven. It drinks only nectar
from the flowers and carries
the seeds of love from one
flower to another."
"Without butterflies
the world would soon have few flowers."
"It can't be true!" gasped Yellow.
"How can I believe there's a
butterfly inside you or me when
all I see is a fuzzy worm?"
"How does one become a butterfly?"
she asked pensively.
"You must want to fly so much
that you are willing to give
up being a caterpillar."
"You mean to die?" asked Yellow, remembering
the three who fell out of the sky.
"Yes and no," he answered.
"What looks like you will die
but what's really you will still
live. Life is changed, not
taken away. Isn't that
different from those who
die without ever becoming
butterflies?"
"And if I decide to become a butterfly,"
said Yellow hesitantly. "What do I do?"
"Watch me. I'm making a cocoon.
"It looks like I'm hiding, I know,
but a cocoon is no escape.
"It's an in-between house where
the change takes place.
"It's a big step since you can
never return to caterpillar life.
"During the change, it will seem
to you or to anyone who might
peek that nothing is happening -
but the butterfly is already becoming.
"It just takes time!"
"And there's something else!
"Once you are a butterfly, you
can really love - the kind of love
that makes new life.
It's better than all the hugging
caterpillars can do."
"Oh, let me go and get Stripe," Yellow said.
But she sadly knew he was too far into the
pile to possibly reach.
"Don't be sad," said her new
friend. "If you change, you
can fly and show him how
beautiful butterflies are. Maybe
he will want to become one
too!"
Yellow was torn in anguish:
"What if Stripe comes back and I'm not
there? What if he doesn't recognize my
new self? Suppose he decides to stay
a caterpillar?
"At least we can do something as far as caterpillars -
we can crawl and eat. We can love in some
way. How can two cocoons get together at all?
How awful to get stuck in a cocoon!"
How could she risk the only life
she knew when it seemed so unlikely
she could ever be a glorious
winged creature?
What did she have to go on?
- seeing another caterpillar who believed
enough to make his own cocoon.
- and that peculiar hope which had kept
her off the pillar and leapt within her
when she heard about butterflies.
The grey-hared caterpillar
continued to cover himself
with silky threads. As he
wove the last bit around
his head he called:
"You'll be a beautiful butterfly -
we're all waiting for you!"
And Yellow decided to risk for a butterfly.
For courage she hung right beside
the other cocoon and began to spin
her own.
"Imagine, I didn't even know I could
do this. That's some encouragement
that I'm on the right track. If I have
inside me the stuff to make cocoons -
maybe the stuff of butterflies is there too."
CHAPTER V
Stripe made much faster progress
this time. He was bigger and
stronger since he had taken time
out. From the beginning he
determined to get to the top.
He especially avoided meeting the
eyes of other crawlers. He knew
how fatal such contact could be.
He tried not to think of Yellow.
He disciplined himself neither to
feel nor to be distracted.
Stripe didn't seem just "disciplined"
to others - he seemed ruthless. Even
among climbers he was special.
He didn't think he was against
anybody. He was just doing what
he had to if he was to get to the top.
"Don't blame me if you
don't succeed! It's a
tough life. Just make
up your mind," he would
have said had any
caterpillar complained.
Then one day
he was near
his goal.
Stripe had done well but
when light finally filtered
down from the top, he was
close to exhaustion.
At this height there was
almost no movement.
All held their positions with
every skill a lifetime of
climbing had taught them.
Every small move counted
terribly.
There was no communication.
Only the outsides touched
They were like cocoons
to one another.
Then one day Stripe
heard a crawler above
him saying,
"None of us can get
any higher without
getting rid of them.
Soon after, he felt
tremendous pressure and
shaking. Then came screams
and falling bodies. Then
silence; lots more light and
less weight from above.
Stripe felt awful with this new
knowledge. The mystery of the
pillar was clearing.
He now knew what had happened
to the three caterpillars.
He now knew what must always
happen on the pillar.
Frustration surged through Stripe. But as he
was agreeing this was the only way "up" he
heard a tiny whisper from the top:
"There's nothing here at all!"
It was answered by another:
"Quiet, fool! They'll hear you down
the pillar. We're where they want
to get. That's what's here!"
Stripe felt frozen. To be so high and not
high at all! It only looked good from the bottom.
The whisper came again,
"Look over there - another pillar -
and there too - everywhere!"
Stripe became angry as well as frustrated.
"My pillar," he moaned, "only one of thousands.
"Millions of caterpillars climbing nowhere!
"Something is really wrong but . . .
what else is there?"
His life with Yellow seemed to far away.
That wasn't it either - not quite.
"Yellow!" He let her image fill his being.
"You knew something, didn't you? Was it courage
to wait?
"Maybe she was right. I wish I were with her."
"I could go down," he thought. "I'd look ridiculous
but maybe it's better than what's happening here."
But Stripe's thought was interrupted by
bursts of movement all over his level.
Each seemed to be making a last effort
to find some entry to the top. But with
every push the top layer tightened.
Finally one caterpillar gasped," Unless
we try together nobody will reach the
top. Maybe if we give one big push!
"They can't hold us down forever!"
But before they could act
there were cries and
commotion of another kind.
Stripe struggled to the
edge to see the cause.
A brilliant yellow winged
creature was circling the
pillar, moving freely -
a wonderful sight! How
did it get so high without
climbing?
When Stripe poked out his head
the creature seemed to recognize
him. It extended its legs and
tried to grab him.
Stripe caught himself just
before being pulled out of the
pile. The brilliant creature
let go and looked sadly into
his eyes.
That look activated excitement
Stripe hadn't felt since he
first saw the pillar. Words
from the past returned,
". . . butterflies alone."
"Is this a butterfly?"
And what did it mean -
"the top . . . they'll see . . ."?
It was all so strange and yet
like it was supposed to be.
And those eyes with the
look of Yellow.
Could it be . . . ?
Such impossible thoughts!
Yet the excitement inside
wouldn't stop.
He grew happy.
Somehow he could escape,
he could be carried away.
But as this possibility became
real, something else grew
inside. He felt he shouldn't
escape like this.
Looking into the creature's eyes
he could hardly bear the love he
saw there. He felt unworthy.
He wanted to change, to make
up for all the times he had
refused to look at the other.
He tried to tell her what
he felt.
He stopped struggling.
The others stared at him
as though he were mad.
CHAPTER VI
He turned around and began
down the pillar. This time he
didn't curl up. He stretched out
full length and looked straight
into the eyes of each caterpillar.
He marveled at the variety and
beauty, amazed that he had
never noticed it before.
He whispered to each, "I've been
up; there's nothing there."
Most paid no attention; they
were too intent on climbing.
One said, "It's sour grapes. He's
bitter. I bet he never made
it to the top."
But some were
shocked and even
stopped climbing
to hear him better.
One of these
whispered in anguish,
"Don't say it even
if it's true. What
else can we do?"
Stripe's answer shocked
them all - including
himself!
"We can fly!
"We can become butterflies!
"There's nothing at the top
and it doesn't matter!"
As he heard his own
message he realized how
he had misread the
instinct to get high.
To get to the "top" he
must fly, not climb.
Stripe looked at each
caterpillar inebriated
with joy that there could
be a butterfly inside.
But the reaction was worse
than before. He saw fear in
eyes. They didn't stop to
listen or speak.
This happy, glorious news was
too much to take - too
good to be true.
And if it wasn't true?
The hope that lit up
the pillar dimmed. All
seemed confused and
unreal.
The way down was
so immensely long.
The vision of the
butterfly faded.
Doubt flooded Stripe.
The pile took on horrible dimensions.
He struggled on - barely - blindly.
It seemed wrong to give up
believing - yet believing seemed
impossible.
A crawler sneered," How could
you swallow such a story? Our
life is earth and climbing. Look
at us worms! We couldn't be
butterflies inside. Make the best of
it and enjoy caterpillar living!"
"Perhaps he's right," sighed Stripe.
"I haven't any proof. Did I only
make it up because I needed
it so much?"
And in pain he continued
down searching for those
eyes which would let him
whisper,
"I saw a butterfly -
there can be more
to life."
One day -
finally -
he was down.
CHAPTER VII
Tired and sad, Stripe
crawled off to the old place
where Yellow and he
had romped.
She was not there, and he
was too exhausted to go
further.
He curled up and fell asleep.
When he finally awoke he
found the yellow creature
fanning him with wings
of light.
"Is this a dream?"
he wondered.
But the dream creature acted
awfully real. She stroked him
with her feelers and most of all
looked at him so lovingly that
he began to trust that what he
had said about becoming a
butterfly might be true.
She walked a little distance
away, then flew back. She
repeated it as if he should
follow.
So he did.
They came to a
branch from which
hung two torn sacks.
The creature kept on
inserting her head,
then her tail,
into one of them.
Then she would fly to him
and touch him.
Her feelers quivered
and Stripe knew
she was speaking.
He couldn't make out words.
Then slowly he seemed
to understand . . .
. . . Somehow he knew what to do.
Stripe climbed - again.
It got darker and darker
and he was afraid.
He felt he had
to let go of
everything . . .
and Yellow waited . . .
. . . until one day . . .
THE END . . .
. . . or the beginning
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