Every morning, when the first rays of sunlight tiptoe into Mrs. Jasmine\u2019s garden, three little butterflies wake up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lily is pale blue, with a silver border along the edges of her wings, like a tiny piece of flying sky. She loves to perch on the lavender, closing her eyes to count the scents of the flowers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Baz is bright yellow, with black dots on his wings, like a butter cookie sprinkled with chocolate chips. He can never sit still\u2014one moment he\u2019s teasing the bees, the next he\u2019s chasing his own shadow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Dian Dian is pale pink, with fine downy hairs on her wings that feel like the inside of a rabbit\u2019s ear. She is the quietest of the three, always sitting beside a dewdrop, waiting for the sun to turn it into a tiny diamond.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The three butterflies are best friends. They play hide-and-seek together in the rosebushes, take naps together on mint leaves, and listen together to Mr. Snail\u2019s slow-paced stories.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One afternoon, the sky suddenly yawned\u2014the clouds turned gray, the wind grew cool, and a few large raindrops began to fall, \u201cplop, plop.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHurry, let\u2019s get out of the rain!\u201d Baz shouted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They spotted a red rose, its petals layered upon one another like a cozy little cottage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSister Rose,\u201d Lily knocked politely on the door, \u201ccan you let us in to shelter from the rain? All three of us butterflies want to come in.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The rose shook her beautiful crown: \u201cLily can come in\u2014your blue wings match mine perfectly. But Baz and Didi\u2014it\u2019s too crowded; my petals will get wrinkled.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lily flapped her wings: \u201cThat won\u2019t do! The three of us have to stay together.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They flew on to a lily. The lily looked like a white cup, filled with fragrant air.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAunt Lily,\u201d Baz pleaded, \u201cCan all three of us come inside to shelter from the rain?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The lily swayed gently: \u201cBaz can come in; your yellow will make my white look even prettier. But the other two\u2014my stamens are shy and timid.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Baz nudged Lily and Didi with his antennae: \u201cNever mind, then. Let\u2019s just keep walking together.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The rain grew heavier, and they found their final shelter\u2014a huge hydrangea, its purple flower head resembling a little round umbrella.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cGrandma Hydrangea,\u201d Dian Dian asked softly, \u201cCan the three of us come in together? Just for a little while.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The hydrangea gathered all her little petals toward the center and said, \u201cCome in, children. Three butterflies\u2014just enough to fill my heart.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The three butterflies squeezed into the hydrangea\u2019s soft embrace. Lily\u2019s left wing brushed against Didi\u2019s right wing, and Baz\u2019s antennae touched Lily\u2019s. They rubbed against each other\u2014it tickled\u2014and they all laughed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Raindrops sang \u201cdrip, drip, drip\u201d outside the hydrangea, but inside it was dry and warm, with a faint scent of nectar in the air.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt\u2019s really cramped in here,\u201d said Baz.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt\u2019s so warm,\u201d said Lily.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt smells so good,\u201d said Didi.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As they huddled together, their eyelids grew heavy. Baz stopped fidgeting, Lily stopped counting the scents, and Didi buried her face in her wings.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The rain stopped, and the moon came out. The moon cast a silvery glow over the hydrangea, shining through the gaps between the petals onto the three butterflies\u2014pale blue, bright yellow, and pale pink\u2014like a little box of melted colorful candies.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mrs. Jasmine passed by the garden and, seeing the three little butterflies sleeping inside the hydrangea, smiled softly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cGood night, Lily. Good night, Baz. Good night, Dian Dian,\u201d she whispered. \u201cThe best spot in the garden isn\u2019t the biggest or prettiest flower\u2014it\u2019s the one that can hold all your friends.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The hydrangea swayed gently in the night breeze, as if nodding in agreement.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The three butterflies twitched their antennae and shared the same dream\u2014a dream of a flower so big, so big, with petals the colors of the rainbow, just big enough to hold the three of them, along with every little lost insect in the world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And tomorrow, the sunshine will return, the dewdrops will sparkle once more, and they\u2019ll fly together, play together, and discover new, tiny miracles together.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Good night, little butterflies. Good night.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Three Butterflies in the Garden<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":822,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[15],"tags":[21,18],"class_list":["post-820","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-children","tag-children","tag-story"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/820","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=820"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/820\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":823,"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/820\/revisions\/823"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/822"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=820"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=820"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=820"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}