The Hummingbird, the Butterfly, and the Purple Worm


D'v was a hummingbird, and one day he was flying along, admiring his wings, drinking nectar from the flowers, admiring his bright colors, floating along, and thinking how wonderful it was to be like him.

J'l was a butterfly, and one day she was flying along, admiring her wings, drinking nectar from the flowers, admiring her bright colors, floating along, and thinking how wonderful it was to be like her.

They happened by chance to drink nectar from neighboring flowers, and they greeted each other amiably and complimented each other on their wonderful bright colors, and their wings. Then they discussed the joys of drinking nectar. D'v and J'l were soon good friends.

Presently, J'l saw a purple worm crawling along on the plant. She flew by to get a better look at it. The purple worm kept on slowly crawling along, eating leaves. It didn't notice the butterfly flutter by, since it had no eyes.

"Look at that awful thing," she twittered, "It doesn't have any wings! Everyone knows that everyone good has wings."

"Of course!" D'v hummed. He flew by, to see the purple worm better. "Ugh!" he said, "How disgusting! It's eating leaves! Everyone knows that everyone good drinks nectar."

"Really," J'l chirped. She flew in close to the worm. "How sickening, it doesn't have any eyes, either. Everyone knows that everyone good has eyes."

"Oh absolutely, I agree," D'v warbled. "I think we should kill it."

J'l was uncertain. She felt an inner feeling that this was a harmless creature, and that it would be wrong to harm it. Maybe, she thought, it could be very beneficial to befriend it. But she looked at it again, as the purple worm continued eating leaves, walking along, without seeing or hearing the conversation above it.

"Are you sure?" she chittered.

"Perfectly certain sure," D'v hummed confidently. "After all, it has no wings, so it must be evil. It has no eyes, so it must be evil. And worst of all, it doesn't drink nectar like everyone good does. It eats leaves instead, and that means it must be evil. No question about it, we have to kill it."

"Yes, you're right, we should kill it," J'l agreed. She swooped down and hit it with her legs and fluttered away.

The purple worm could not see or hear, but it certainly could feel pain. It was hurt from being hit and kicked by the butterfly's legs, as much because the hurt was intentional as from the actual injury.

D'v swooped down and pecked at the purple worm with his beak and battered it with his wings. "We don't want you here!" he shrieked at it. "You're evil! We want you to die! You and everyone like you!" The purple worm was hurt even worse, and began to cry.

J'l fluttered down and picked up the purple worm in her claws, flew high above the ground and dropped it. "There, that should kill it," she said with satisfaction. "It will never bother us again."

"Good riddance," D'v trilled. "We'll never see that scummy worm again."

But the purple worm was not dead, only badly injured. He lay on the ground awhile, crying from the pain. Slowly he crawled away, hiding himself in a hole so he wouldn't get hurt again. He lay in the hole, crying from the pain of his injuries. Long after that pain had faded, the purple worm kept crying, desperately miserable, from the pain of being hated unjustly.

'I am what I am,' he thought to himself, 'exactly as nature created me, and I intended no harm, nor have I done any harm, to those who hate me and wish me dead.'

The purple worm lay there crying through the rest of the summer. He lay there crying when winter came. Finally the purple worm cried himself to sleep, and slept through the long winter.

When spring came, the purple worm crawled slowly out of its hole into the sunshine, warmed its wings, looked around, and flew away to find something to drink.

But instead of becoming a butterfly as nature had intended for it, to bring joy and happiness to those around it, something far different had happened. As its tears had flowed over the purple worm in its sleep, they had leeched the color from its wings and stunted their growth. All the anger and misery the tears contained became concentrated in a sharp poisonous point at its tail. The hateful way the purple worm had been treated by those who should have known better had turned it into a wasp.

And now, generations later, there are no more butterflies, only wasps, because hummingbirds ruthlessly hunt, attack, and usually kill every purple worm they can find. After all, everyone good knows that purple worms become evil wasps unless they are killed. Sadly, nobody misses the butterflies. The hummingbirds have forgotten that butterflies ever existed.


Copyright © October 1996, by Dirk Pellett