With wide eyes, I stared at the silver key as my mom unlocked the front door to our home. Feeling as though an hour had passed, I ran through the large door before it was halfway open, dropped my bright pink, Disney princess backpack in the foyer, and sprinted through the kitchen hallway. My feet raced so fast I began to dismantle the long, red rug in the hallway as it laid against the tile floor. A smile filled my entire face as I sprinted towards the surprise I had dreamed of for the whole fifteen-minute car ride home from school. My six-year-old self had strategically drafted what seemed like a thousand-item list of possibilities of my surprise. Was it a new pair of shoes, my favorite vanilla frosted Publix cake, a puppy? But finally, before me, sitting on my handmade, pink, polka-dotted play table was a small, circular, plastic tub filled with WORMS! 

“They are caterpillars! Don’t you just love them, Ashley,” my mom asked with her soft voice. Yet her words flowed through one ear and out the other as I gawked at the 5 brown creatures before me. My face beat red and my eyes became glassy as I compared my list of surprises to the small beasts in the container. Looking back, I wish I could tell my young self how exciting the next few weeks would be. Eleven years later, this is at the top of my favorite childhood memories list. 

“You are going to be the mom to five beautiful butterflies in just a few weeks,” my mom said excitedly.  

Butterflies? How are these small, brown creatures going to make big, colorful butterflies, I thought. They don’t even have any wings! I wiped a small tear from my eye hoping my mom wouldn’t see. I could sense her excitement, but I felt hollow and my brain felt like mush from the confusion. I forcefully plastered another large smile on my face. I’ll just see what my 5 new pets turn into, I thought. I do love butterflies. 

I did not go over to the caterpillars at all that day; I carried on with my routine of some cartoon watching and coloring. But each day, I welcomed the caterpillars a little bit more. I brought them to the dinner table when my parents and I would sit for meals, I sat with them while I colored in books and did crafts, and I even showed the small creatures my favorite Barbie dolls and stuffed animals, which I had a lot. I now see these caterpillars were the same as I was. Young, exploring life, even if in their small container, and making friends with one another as I did in school. I like to think I was the caterpillars’ best friend, as, at that time, they were to me. I went to sleep thinking about the caterpillars as themselves, forgetting they would ever be something else, but one morning, things changed. 

My caterpillar friends were gone! With wide, tear-filled eyes and a dropped jaw, I stared at all that was left of them, large, flaky shells hanging at the lid of the container. 

“Mommy, Mommy! What did I do,” I shrieked with a shaky voice as if about to cry. “Did I hurt them?”

“No, sweetie,” my mom said, her calm voice acting like a hug to my flustered self. “They are just moving onto their next stage of life.” I recognize now that the butterflies were going through what some could say was their teenage phase. They needed time to be alone, spend time with themselves to grow into what brings their most recognizable and unique selves. 

A caterpillar’s body breaks down in its cocoon and later releases its wings. Once again, I was the same as the butterflies. Breaking down not physically, but with tears in my eyes and a shaky voice, emptiness consumed me as I missed my 5 new friends. All that was left was to prepare to see them again. I constructed their bright green, netted cage for their arrival and bought oranges from the grocery store after hearing that it was a butterfly’s favorite snack. 

After another day of trudging around school with my head hung low, my mom picked me up promptly at 3:30, and the words “There’s a big surprise for you at home” rang out like music. This time, I knew exactly what the surprise was. As the car pulled into the driveway, I became a track runner all over again, sprinting to my play table to see 5 neon orange butterflies in the netted enclosure. I stared with wide eyes and my mouth hung open as I examined each butterfly–one emulated a darker orange color than the others, one had larger black spots on the tips of its wings compared to its 4 brothers and sisters. I watched as each one of them began to slowly flap their wings. I imagined this could be the butterflies’ way of thanking me for my patience during their journey back to me. 

The next day was what some people may describe as a perfect day: a bright, sunny Saturday, yet this was forever my worst day. My parents and I gathered in our backyard with the green cage in hand. The butterflies were about to meet their next adventure. I zipped open the netted enclosure and watched each of my friends fly out into the surrounding yard. With shaking hands and tear-filled eyes, I said goodbye.

These small, flying creatures are special, not only for their beautiful colors but also for their ability to change and grow. Change is often viewed as a negative, yet, through butterflies, I have seen how change is necessary for the development and to prepare ourselves for all the future experiences we will have. I continue to change and develop the perspective I obtain with each of my life experiences and have learned that sometimes it may be each of our own small orange, winged creatures that allow for the best type of change and growth to be struck within us.