Bear Mountain Butterfly Sanctuary

     I have a thing for butterflies.  I have seen them at the Bronx Zoo and the Museum of Natural History and Reptiland.  If there is a fine mesh containing them and classical music playing in the background I can spend hours in there with them.  Hours.  When I discovered that there was a whole place dedicated to them I couldn't wait for the spring to arrive.  Today we made the trip to Jim Thorpe to a strange little building that was the Bear Mountain Butterfly Sanctuary.  There was a movie and small talk about the butterflies.  It was funny and informative.  But then the magic...we were allowed to enter a room that upon first inspection was a bit odd but turned into a world of pure bliss.  Monarch butterflies fluttered about us.  Landed on us.  Tickled our cheeks.  We were allowed to put sugar water on our hands and hold them ever so gently.  At one point the woman ran outside to get milkweed and placed it in a vase.  She then looked for females and put them on the leaves...within seconds we watched her lay an egg.  Thoughts of The Very Hungry Caterpillar streaming through my brain.  Classical music was put on as she explained that the butterflies seem to like the vibration of the strings.  We now know how to discern a male from a female and learned about their anatomy and stages.  All those fancy places I've watched the butterflies and I learned more today than I've ever known.   There is something quite wondrous about holding a butterfly.
     I've been talking about butterflies lately and how I feel like I am changing as well.   It was surreal when the woman speaking to us about their developmental stages went on to tell us something quite special. We sat there completely intrigued by her words and demeanor and knowledge.  She said that once the caterpillar had its cocoon it changed within it.  Each day it became a little bit more butterfly and a little less caterpillar.  Each second it shifted from one to the other.   She said that the heart of the caterpillar lived on as the heart of the butterfly.  It was the only part that stayed the same as the creature changed from one stage to the next.  Its heart stayed true.  It was there within the creature that transformed.  This brought tears to me eyes.  Who would've thought that a tiny little building with diagrams and fake flowers could sum it all up so tenderly. 
     Another beautiful moment was when the woman described how the butterflies we were so gingerly holding were slowly dying.  Their wings were fading and some were even tattered.  They would be laying eggs and starting the next generation.  She went on to say that it didn't matter because they loved all of the butterflies...even the older ones with wings that weren't so vibrant and perfect.  When you leave a place and your five year old has remembered facts about what he has learned that day it makes you feel good as a parent and educator.  When your kids spend the car ride pretending to be butterflies looking for nectar and flowers you realize it was fun as well.  When your nine year old mentions how things don't need to be perfect to be wonderful you realize something much bigger has happened.  And when you leave a place feeling like something spiritual has occurred you are blessed that all things led you to that place at that very time. 
     I pulled a sheet off of one of those inspirational quote-of-the-day calendars back in March and have had it up near my bed as a reminder...
    "A butterfly and caterpillar seem very different.  Yet the power to transform existed within its being from the beginning."