“Why, Aunt Doris! How can butterflies ever know so much? They don’t eat leaves, do they?” asked Neva in a surprised tone.
“No, butterflies eat honey and overripe fruit and such things; it is indeed wonderful that they can select the right plant, but the One who made the butterfly gave it wonderful instinct. Who is He, Neva?”
“Our Father,” answered the little girl. “I know that we sing in school:
‘The little sparrow falleth not
But Jesus taketh heed.’
but I never thought of His paying much attention to such a little thing as butterflies. I’m not afraid of this caterpillar now; I just, almost, pretty nearly love it.”
Aunt Doris smiled, then setting the box upon the railing she said: “This caterpillar must have taken quite a journey; we will go down the road a ways and see if we can find some milk-weed leaves for it.”
Neva ran ahead and her bright eyes soon discovered the leaves. When they had been placed in the box the little girl sat and watched the caterpillar make a good meal, while her aunt explained to her how it would first become a chrysalis and then a butterfly.
“How long does it have to be a caterpillar?” she asked.
“Twenty or thirty days,” answered Aunt Doris. “But I think that this one is quite old and will hang itself up before long now.”