Once a vastly beautiful butterfly was near extinction, its beauty making it easy
prey for birds. Birds, who in their own splendor were too imperious to notice the
butterfly's own beauty. Regardless of their danger, the butterflies were courageous,
continuing to try to evade their aggressors. When their numbers were very slim, Nature
decided to help them. There was a tree... the one tree... who was able to speak their
language. The one tree was far away and in the bitter cold of the mountains. The
tree was an ancient evergreen, full of hatred for the unkindness of the earth. For
it had been a strong sapling in a warm forest, until one day, the earth heaved, and
it found itself forced to exist in the cold windblown climate of the mountain. It
longed for warmth, it longed for beauty and most of all it longed for a reason to
live. When nature's wind pushed the butterfly it's way, the tree's inner warmth returned
at the pure beauty of it. The wind spoke; the butterfly found refuge from the wind
and at last the tree was able to tell something of it's bitterness. The butterfly
listened, astounded at the depth of it's bitterness. The tree in turn listened to
the insect's dilemma. The tree placed spores on the wings, saying " put these spores
on the plant you feed on. It will help you." The butterfly in turn vowed to return
to keep the tree company. Though it was an immense journey, the butterfly made it
all the way back home. It did as the tree had told it... placing the spores on the
stamen of the milkweed, immediately turning the sap bitter. The insect was old and
ready to die when a bird finally caught up to it. As it lunged to devour the hapless
butterfly, the insect said to the bird " I am now protected by the one tree. Eat
me and die." The bird should have listened, and now the sickness spread through its
body. Struggling to reach help, it told it's mates of the butterfly's new defense.
As the milkweed matured, it's seeds were spread by the wind. The eggs hatched in
the warm spring, the leave's sap protecting the caterpillars of the new generation.
As they emerged from their cocoons, true to their word, they flew en-masse to the
one tree. As each generation grew, the tree was soon magnificently decorated in bright
colours of butterflies. Soon too were the hillsides around it. Once in a while, a
bird would disregard their parent's warnings, but most birds left the insects alone.
So it was for centuries to come.
Stories are often told of the "One". In it's many meanings, we always find that the
"One" is interrelated to everything else in some way. In a touching example, we find
the monarch butterfly, easily spotted prey to many birds, related to a simple plant,
the milkweed. For the bitter sap of the plant makes the butterfly unpalatable to
the birds. (another butterfly even imitates the monarch because of this) In turn,
the butterfly lays her eggs on the leaves of the plant, turning into iridescent gold
cocoons. They will eventually hatch when the weather turns cooler, and the new butterfly
travels immense distances to the highlands of Mexico.