A Butterfly in January

Working in the backyard pruning
the rose bushes and the crape myrtle,
Linda, my lovely wife, thought about
Rusty, our fifteen-year-old Corgi
that we had put to sleep two days before.
Tears filled her eyes and streamed down
her cheeks as she felt the grief anew.
Memories of Rusty flooded her mind.

As she paused to quell her emotions,
a yellow butterfly appeared and
danced in the air all around her, as
though trying to interact with her.
Linda loves butterflies and looks
forward to warm springtime weather
when they return to our yard, but
this was January, and we had just
had a week of hard frosts, frigid nights.

As she watched the butterfly fluttering
around her, her mind was overtaken by
wonderment. Then she felt a calm settle
over her, as though this butterfly was a
sign sent to reassure her that Rusty was
at peace in a better place. Her tears
stopped, and she smiled. The yellow
butterfly flew up and over the fence,
not to be seen again. A butterfly out
of season in the dead of winter may
have a natural explanation … but I
prefer to think it doesn’t.


Please check out my ten books:
http://www.amazon.com/Jr.-Harry-E.-Gilleland/e/B004SVLY02/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0