The Butterfly Tree

When my sisters and I were little we had a bedtime routine we followed every night. Primarily it consisted of a bedtime story, song and prayers with our parents. My dad loved to make up songs and one of our favorites was:

Daddy loves Sara (or Becca or Hannah, depending on who’s room they were in)
Daddy loves Sara

Daddy loves Sara

Mommy does too!

Mommy loves Sara

Mommy loves Sara

Mommy loves Sara

Becca does too!

Becca loves Sara…

Well, you get the point. We’d chime in with other people (Grandma Sue! Uncle Bill! Fr. Steve!) to add, often including the dog, until finally Mom and Dad would say “Enough” and tuck us in.

One of our favorite “stories” was the Butterfly Tree, something Dad made up. We didn’t get to hear it often but when we did we were captivated, lulled to sleep with his vivid images. Today is my dad’s birthday. My youngest sister and I are getting butterfly tattoos in celebration of this beloved part of our childhood. I thought, in addition to the tattoo, I’d write a sample of the Butterfly Tree to wish Dad a very happy birthday.


You are walking barefoot through a meadow. The grass is long and soft and a gentle breeze makes it dance. The sun is high in a clear blue sky and warms your skin. The dirt beneath your feet is damp and cool and you wiggle your toes into it. Somewhere in the distance you can hear a brook babbling and you head towards the sound.

When you reach the edge of the meadow and the brook you find a weeping willow, its branches swaying in the wind. You step through the branches like a curtain and sit at the base of the trunk, glad for the cool shade. Out of your backpack you pull out a small bag of popcorn. As you munch on it a squirrel appears, peeking through the willow’s branches, nose twitching, eyes bright.

Slowly you pull a piece of popcorn from your bag and gently toss it toward the squirrel. After a moment’s hesitation the squirrel finally steps into the willow’s circle and picks the popcorn up in its front paws. It nibbles the popcorn gratefully, watching you all the while. You throw another piece of popcorn in the squirrel’s direction, this time a little closer to you.

Eventually the squirrel comes forward and before long, after a trail of popcorn, he’s at your feet. You lean forward, popcorn kernel in your palm and extend it to the squirrel. He sniffs, nose crinkling, and finally accepts the popcorn from your hand. As you lean back he suddenly darts away and up the tree, so fast you hardly see him move.

Smiling you close your eyes and rest your head against the tree, listening to the water tinkle and laugh as it rushes by and hearing the leaves’ rustling response.

When you open your eyes again you discover a small white butterfly flitting around the edges of the willow’s branches. You watch as it darts up and down, suddenly visited by two more similar butterflies. Pretty soon there are at least ten of them, circling and dancing around one another. They fly near and around you but never close enough for you to reach them. As you watch you spot a  few bright green and yellow butterfly, and then electric blue and black butterflies.

For a while the whole inner circle of the willow tree is filled with butterflies of all colors and sizes swirling around you and one another. Your eyes dart, trying to follow their dance. And then, suddenly, they’re gone. For a moment you sit, still and waiting, wondering if they’ll come back.

Just as you think they’ve all gone you catch movement out of the corner of your eye. There is the King butterfly. A huge, brilliantly orange and black monarch has arrived. It flits around the circle and then comes close. You hold out your and hand he lands, lightly, on your finger. His wings open and close slowly as his legs tickle your skin. You sit, watching one another for a while. And then, the monarch lifts off your finger and disappears through the curtain of weeping willow branches.

You rest your head against the trunk of the tree and sigh. Closing your eyes you let the tickle of the breeze and the sounds of the nearby brook lull you to sleep.

When the Going Gets Tough...

…I usually turn around and go the other way.

But then, a couple months ago I joined a running group to train for a 5K. 3.1 miles may not sound like a lot – and indeed, it really isn’t – but I went to the first meeting skeptically. We used the “Couch to 5K” program, alternately running and walking, building up endurance. I was skeptical about my own ability, about whether I'd actually follow through. Never in my life had I run a mile – not even in gym class when we did fitness testing.

For the last 2 months I have gone to all but one of our Tuesday night group training sessions. Most weeks I have trained 2 other times on my own. I have purchased, and used regularly, a foam roller for my aching shins and calves. I have rubbed copious amounts of Tiger Balm into my legs. I have hydrated, and hydrated, and hydrated. I now have cold weather running clothes and have done many, many loads of laundry, trying to keep up with my work out schedule.

The biggest leap in the training program comes in week 5. We went from running 8 minutes, walking 3 minutes, running 8 minutes to running a continuous 20 minutes. I was SO nervous about this jump! I called my sister – a runner and fitness pro – for inspiration before heading out the door on a chilly and cloudy Sunday afternoon. I told her how nervous I was. That I was worried I would feel like stopping. That I wouldn’t be able to make myself keep going. That it would be too hard.

It was during that conversation I realized a deep truth about myself. I do not do things that are hard. It was astonishing to sit back and realize that I have arranged my life so that I don’t have to do difficult things. I suddenly discovered that I generally do not challenge myself. Usually, I take – seek out – the path of least resistance. And, to my chagrin, I can be a quitter.

My sister gave me an excellent pep talk. She assured me that I could do it. I’d been training for it. I was ready for it. My brain might say otherwise but my body was able.

I left my house feeling anxious and uncertain. And then – I DID IT! I gasped and groaned and kept checking my timer for the last 5 minutes but I did it! I got home grinning and swelling with pride.

This morning I ran the 5K we’ve been training for these past 9 weeks. It was hard. It hurt. It rained the entire time. I wasn’t always sure I would make it. But I did. And I feel good! I’m excited to start training for a 10K this spring and a half marathon next fall. I am reveling in what my body can do and overcoming mental hurdles that have been in my way for a long time.

Running has become a metaphor for me. It has challenged me to think about myself and life differently. I have begun to wonder about and look for other ways I have been living complacently and to get ready to tackle things that might have previously seemed too difficult.