The butterfly did not need to give permission to the caterpillar to emerge. The caterpillar did not need to ask him how.
She knew. She always knew.
So she transformed into her new, colourful form.
“Look Daddy, look at my wings. Aren’t I pretty now?” she asked, dancing around the light, using her wings to make shapes in the shadows that formed around her.
“Yes child, your wings are pretty. Do you not know that you were always beautiful? From the moment you became in the egg, through your days as a caterpillar and then, as you stretched out your wings in connection with the skies, you were beautiful. You are beautiful.”
“I was?” she said, confused, feeling like she misunderstood. She had always thought herself to be dull, insignificant, unimportant next to the grandeur of her elders.
“Yes child, you have been shining your beauty on this earth with each movement you made, with each incarnation of your magnificent self.
Each time you emerged further into your life you have shown us a little more of your being, you have changed and reformed and grown. Yet at each stage there was still you, the same you; whole, dazzling, beautiful you.
So fly now, child. Use your wings to remind yourself of your brilliance and share it with the world. But remember, your true beauty comes from deep within.
Yes, your wings are pretty, but you, you my child, are beautiful.”
And so she flew, straight towards the rising sun, embracing the beauty she had always held, emerging into the beauty she had always been.