© Copyright 2021 by Judy Zwirblis
Photo by Hulki Okan Tabak on Unsplash
swayed back and forth as if music was in the air. It was mid-July
and the summer heat was lingering over my garden. I had planted a
package of wild seeds that spring, not knowing what would turn up. I
was pleasantly surprised as they blossomed into a mixed display of
color and kind. Although small, it was a most lovely garden. The
red, violet and orange colors brought the tiny visitors that day to
taste their fragrant drink.
David who was just five years old was playing catch with his older brother, Jay, as was custom. Noticing the butterflies, David stopped playing to get a glimpse of them. There were about a dozen that morning hovering over the sweet treats. But one small Painted Lady, a species we studied that spring, was resting on the driftwood that was strategically placed near the flowerbed. David slowly walked over to get a closer look. One of the wings was damaged and he saw that it was struggling to fly. It remained there slowly opening and closing its wings. Jay kept watch while David ran in the house to get me so I could do something to comfort her. We got a small bowl of sugar water hoping this would strengthen her. We set the bowl down and watched with amazement as she climbed on the rim and intuitively put her proboscis in the water. She sipped the cool drink staying on the bowl for quite a long time.
David was so excited! He loved animals and I’d have to say his fearless and patient approach towards them was wonderful to watch. After a few minutes, David slowly touched her wing and to our surprise she didn’t move a bit. She seemed to want his hand where it hurt. He looked at me with serious conviction and said, “Let’s pray.” I quickly recalled a Bible verse, 1 Peter 2:24, which was my response to anyone who needed healing. So quietly, as David placed his finger on her wing, we whispered, “Thank you dear Lord for your beautiful butterfly, we know that you love your creatures and we pray that this wing be healed in Jesus name. Amen.” One of my fondest memories of both my boys was to witness their simple and pure faith. Afterward, I went inside to finish my housework while David continued playing ball with Jay.
As we went about the business of the day, we thought that the butterfly would be gone by evening. Still concerned though, David decided to take one last look before he went to bed. She was gone. We both assumed that her strength was renewed. These thoughts made David very happy and he went to sleep with blessed assurance.
In the morning, David rushed downstairs telling me to look out the window. As I hurried towards the bay window overlooking the garden, I beheld the most glorious sight ever to adorn my backyard. It looked like a moving Monet painting of orange impressions. Hundreds of butterflies, all Painted Ladies, were basking and floating everywhere. The once green grass was now an orange carpet! To our amazement there they were, fluttering over the yard and around our garden. We ran out to see what was going on. There were so many gently floating about or sitting still, basking in the sun. It seemed that they were waiting for the boys and me to come out and play. When they saw us they flew about and around us gently landing on our cheeks as if to kiss us hello. We embraced their sweet greetings. The soft summer breeze seemed to carry them where they wanted to go. Like a whirlwind of leaves in autumn, they surrounded us moving slowly as if they were inviting us to dance with them. I felt we had walked into a picture book fairy tale. We reveled in this moment hoping to somehow capture this joy.
Reluctantly, we left this pastoral scene to take Jay to his summer baseball camp while David and I went grocery shopping. When we got in the car David still had one of the butterflies on his cheek. It was the cutest thing I ever saw. There they sat together as if they were bosom buddies, perfectly content. When we got in the store a few people gave a second look as they noticed the curious scene. I figured the princess, as we began calling her, would leave in between entering and existing doors but she stayed the whole day floating from his face to his hand and shoulder, and occasionally on his head. If butterflies sleep, she slept by David’s side during the night. If not she just waited patiently for him to wake up until morning.
Most of the butterflies left that first day with only a few remaining near the flowers. That single one that stayed with David lingered for three days. As the flowers died and the end of summer was near, I couldn’t stop thinking about that morning. Miracles are for everyone, no matter what size, no matter where, even in my garden on that butterfly
begged to be answered. What urged them on to come in so many numbers?
We didn’t have that many flowers to service all of them. Why
did the butterflies surround us like they did? Is there a butterfly
language? Were our little friends showing us some principles about
Author Judy Zwirblis taught children in her home for more than twenty years. During this time, she noticed that the ordinary days of homeschooling were moments of the Lord's gentle touch, the teaching of His love. In Treasured Tales of Homeschool, she shares the signs, wonders, and miracles the Lord provided while she homeschooled her children. Each personal account reflects the purpose of family and how children learn their God-ordained destiny by knowing who they are in Christ. Using Zwirblis' personal and professional experiences, Treasured Tales of Homeschool provides witness to both the far-reaching problems in families and schools and how parents and grandparents can teach children according to the word of God and reap wonderful results. Filled with key Biblical principles Zwirblis discovered while teaching her own boys and working with at-risk children, the stories share God encounters and spiritual insights into the heart of God.
Treasured Tales of Homeschool: An Inspiration for Parents: Zwirblis, Judy: 9781546200116: Amazon.com: Books