- 29 jul
- 1 min de lectura
In the butterfly garden, a woman was searching for something among the lantana blossoms. Several butterflies fluttered about nearby. When I asked her about it, she explained that she had rescued a flightless butterfly four days earlier and had brought it there today to let it play among the flowers. It had been moving about happily just moments before, but she had lost sight of it.
We soon found the butterfly lying lifeless beneath a lantana bush. "I'm glad it could spend its final moments happy," she said. Together, we buried her butterfly right there.
She told me that since losing her husband four months ago, she had come to feel that death is a part of life—and that, for that very reason, death is beautiful.