More than a pumpkin

My wife Kasia says hope carries on the wings of a butterfly. It’s an idea she borrowed from her sister-in-law, Cherie. Where Cherie heard this delightful bit of wisdom, I know not. But it’s true: butterflies carry hope. And not just any kind of hope. Real hope, the kind you feel watching a bed sheet dancing in the sun-shine while pinned to a clothesline that holds aloft the butterfly. There are thousands (you’ve seen them haven’t you?). Tonight, before you go to bed, look for them, as they take their rest on bed-posts or head-boards or drawer knobs all over the United States, and Britain, and Poland, and Argentina, and Switzerland, in the thousand odd places they’ll fold their wings during God-our-father-we-thank-you and take flight upon the words, goodnight children.

Hope