A different sort of book For everyone Except for those who have given up completely (and even they might secretly enjoy it)
HOPE FOR THE FLOWERS
words and pictures by
HOPE FOR THE FLOWERS
A tale…. Partly about life Partly about revolution And lots about hope For adults and others (including caterpillars who can read)
Many thanks To everyone All over the world Who has helped me Believe in the butterfly. This is the tale Of a caterpillar Who has trouble Becoming what He really is. It is like myself – like us. Love
To the “more” of love – the real revolution
And my father who believed in it.
Once upon a time A ...view middle of the document...
He felt new excitement – like sap rising in the spring. “Maybe I’ll find what I’m looking for.”
Full of agitation Stripe asked a fellow crawler: “Do you know what is happening?” “I just arrived myself,” said the other. “Nobody has time to explain; they’re so busy trying to get wherever they are going up there.” “But what’s at the top?” continued Stripe. “No one knows that either but it must be awfully good because everybody’s rushing there. Goodbye, I’ve no more time!” He plunged into the pile.
Stripe’s head was bursting with the new drive. He couldn’t get his thoughts together. Every second another crawler passed him and disappeared into the pillar. “There’s only one thing to do.” He pushed himself in.
The first moments on the pile were a shock. Stripe was pushed and kicked and stepped on from every direction. It was climb or be climbed….
No more fellow caterpillars on Stripe’s pile – They became only threats and obstacles which he turned into steps and opportunities. They single-minded approach really helped and Stripe felt he was getting much higher. But some days it seemed he could manage only to keep his place. It was especially then that an anxious shadow nagged inside. “What’s at the top?” it whispered. “Where are we going?”
On one exasperated day Stripe couldn’t stand it any longer and actually yelled back: “I don’t know, but there’s no time to think about it!” A little yellow caterpillar he was crawling over gasped: “I was just talking to myself,” Stripe mumbled. “Its really isn’t important – I was just wondering where we were going?”
“You know,” Yellow said, “I was wondering that myself but since there is no way to find out I decided it wasn’t important.” She blushed at how silly this sounded – quickly adding, “No one else seems to worry about where we’re going so it must be good.” But she blushed again. “How far are we from the top?” Stripe answered gravely, “Since we’re not at the bottom and not at the top we must be in the middle.” “Oh,” said Yellow, and they both began climbing again. But now Stripe had a new feeling. He felt bad. He had lost his singlemindedness. “How can I step on someone I’ve just talked to?”
Stripe avoided Yellow as much as possible, but one day there she was, blocking the only way up. “Well, I guess it’s you or me,” he said, and stepped squarely on her head. Something in the way Yellow looked at him made him feel just awful about himself. Like: no matter what is up there - it just isn’t worth it.”
Stripe crawled off Yellow and whispered, “I’m sorry.”
And Yellow began to cry: “I could stand this life hoping in what was ahead until I met you talking to yourself that day. Since then my heart hasn’t been in it – but I don’t know what to do.” “I didn’t know how badly I felt about this life until now. Now when you look at me so kindly, I know for sure I don’t like this life. I just want to do something like crawl with you and nibble grass.” Stripe’s heart leapt inside....