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Full text of "HOPE FOR THE FLOWERS"

See other formats

o tale-

​

​

​

A different sort of book

For everyone

​

Except for those who have

given up completely

​

(and even they might secretly enjoy it)

​

​

​

HOPE FOR. THE FLOWERS

​

​

​

words and pictures by "rinQ PauloS

​

( 1972 )

​

​

​

​

HOPS FOR. THE FLOWERS

​

Trina Paulos

​

​

​

​

A tale....

​

Partly about life

​

Partly about revolution

​

And lots about hope

​

For adults and others

​

(including caterpillars who can read)

​

​

​

​

​

Many thanks

To everyone

All over the world

Who has helped me

Believe in the butterfly.

​

This is the tale

Of a caterpillar

Who has trouble

Becoming what

He really is.

​

It is like myself - like us.

Love

​

¡áhii*-'

​

Trina

​

​

​

To the "more" of love - the real revolution

​

​

​

​

And my father who believed in it.

​

​

​

CHAFTER. 1

​

​

​

​

Once upon a time

A tiny striped caterpillar

Burst from the egg

Which had been home

For so long.

​

"Hello world/' he said.

​

"It sure is bright out here in the sun."

​

​

​

​

‘Tm hungry/' he thought

and straightaway began to eat

the leaf he was born on.

​

And he ate another... and another. ...and another.

And got bigger...and bigger.... and bigger....

​

​

​

Until one day he stopped

Eating and thought,

​

“There must be more to life

that just eating and

getting bigger.

​

“It’s getting dull."

​

​

​

​

​

So Stripe crawled down

From the friendly tree

Which had shaded and

fed him.

​

​

​

He was seeking more.

​

​

​

There were all sorts of new

things to find. Grass and dirt

and holes and tiny bugs -

each fascinated him.

​

​

​

​

​

But nothing satisfied him.

​

​

​

When he came across some

other crawlers like himself he

was especially excited.

​

But they were so busy eating

They had no time to talk -

​

Just as Stripe had been.

​

"They don't know any more

about life than I do," he sighed.

​

​

​

​

Then one day

Stripe saw some

crawlers really

crawling.

​

​

​

He looked around for

their goal

and saw a great

column rising high

into the air.

​

​

​

​

​

When he joined them he discovered....

​

​

​

....the column was a pile

of squirming, pushing

caterpilalrs -

​

a caterpillar pillar.

​

​

​

​

It appeared that the

caterpillars were trying

to reach the top -

but the top was so lost in

the clouds

that Stripe had no

idea what was there.

​

He felt new excitement -

like sap rising in the

spring.

​

"Maybe I'll find what

I'm looking for."

​

​

​

​

​

Full of agitation Stripe asked a

fellow crawler:

​

"Do you know what is happening?"

"I just arrived myself/' said the

other. "Nobody has time to

explain; they're so busy trying to

get wherever they are going up

there."

​

"But what's at the top?"

continued Stripe.

​

"No one knows that either but it

must be awfully good because

everybody's rushing there.

Goodbye, I've no more time!"

​

He plunged into the pile.

​

​

​

Stripe's head was bursting with

the new drive. He couldn't get

his thoughts together.

​

Every second another crawler

passed him and disappeared

into the pillar.

​

"There's only one thing to do."

He pushed himself in.

​

​

​

​

CHAPTER. 2

​

​

​

​

The first moments on the

pile were a shock.

​

Stripe was pushed and kicked

and stepped on

from every direction.

​

It was climb or be climbed....

​

​

​

No more fellow caterpillars

on Stripe's pile -

​

​

​

​

They became only threats

and obstacles which he

turned into steps and

opportunities.

​

They single-minded approach

really helped and Stripe

felt he was getting much

higher.

​

But some days it seemed he

could manage only to keep his

place.

​

It was especially then that

an anxious shadow nagged

inside. "What's at the top?"

it whispered.

​

​

​

"Where are we going?"

​

​

​

​

On one exasperated day Stripe

couldn't stand it any longer

and actually yelled back:

​

"I don't know, but there's no time

to think about it!"

​

A little yellow caterpillar he was

crawling over gasped:

​

"I was just talking to

myself," Stripe mumbled.

​

"Its really isn't important -

I was just wondering

where we were going?"

​

​

​

​

"You know," Yellow said,

​

"I was wondering that myself

​

but since there is no way to find out I

​

decided it wasn’t important."

​

She blushed at how silly this sounded -

quickly adding, "No one else seems to

worry about where we’re going so it

must be good."

​

But she blushed again.

​

"How far are we from the top?"

​

Stripe answered gravely,

​

"Since we’re not at the bottom and not

at the top we must be in the middle."

​

"Oh," said Yellow, and they both began

climbing again.

​

But now Stripe had a new feeling.

​

He felt bad.

​

He had lost his singlemindedness.

​

"How can I step on someone I’ve just

talked to?"

​

​

​

​

Stripe avoided Yellow as much

as possible, but one day there

she was, blocking the only way

up.

​

"Well, I guess it's you or me,"

he said, and stepped squarely

on her head.

​

Something in the way Yellow

looked at him made him feel

just awful about himself.

​

Like: no matter what is up

there - it just isn't worth it."

​

​

​

​

Stripe crawled off

Yellow and

whispered,

​

"I'm sorry."

​

​

​

And Yellow began to cry:

​

​

​

​

Q

​

​

/ V ifi

​

/ /

​

i

​

​

​

​

¡á i i

​

​

​

​

1

​

​

​

"I could stand this life hoping in what

was ahead until I met you talking to

yourself that day. Since then my

heart hasn't been in it - but I don't

know what to do."

​

"I didn't know how badly I felt about

this life until now. Now when you look

at me so kindly, I know for sure I

don't like this life. I just want to do

something like crawl with you and

nibble grass."

​

Stripe's heart leapt inside.

​

Everything looked different.

​

The pillar made no sense at all.

​

"I would like that too," he whispered.

But this meant giving up the climb -

a hard decision.

​

​

​

​

“Yellow dear, maybe, we're close to

the top.

​

Maybe if we help each other we can

get there quickly."

​

“Maybe," she said.

​

But they both knew this wasn’t what

they wanted most.

​

“Let's go down," Yellow said.

​

“Okay." And they stopped climbing.

​

They clung to each other as masses

of caterpillars crawled over them.

The air was terrible but they were

happy with each other and made a

big ball so nobody could step in

their eyes and stomachs.

​

​

​

​

​

​

They did nothing at

all for what seemed a

long time.

​

Suddenly they didn't

feel anything crawling

over them.

​

They unrolled and

opened their eyes.

​

They were at the

side of the

caterpillar pillar.

​

​

​

​

​

​

"Hi stripe/' said Yellow.

"Hi Yellow/* said Stripe.

​

And they crawled off into

some fresh, green grass

to eat and take a nap.

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

Just before they fell asleep

Stripe hugged Yellow.

​

"Being together like this a

sure different from being

crushed in that crowd!"

​

​

​

"It sure is!"

​

​

​

She smiled and closed her

eyes.

​

​

​

CHAPTER. 3

​

​

​

​

So Yellow and Stripe

romped in the grass

and ate

and grew fat

and loved each other.

​

They were so glad

not to be fighting

everybody

every moment.

​

​

​

​

Stripe couldn't help

wondering,

​

"There must be still

more to life.”

​

​

​

It was like heaven for a while.

​

But as time passed even hugging each

other seemed a little boring.

​

Each know every hair of each other.

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

Yellow saw how restless he

was and tried to make him

extra happy and

comfortable.

​

"Just think how much

better this is than that

awful mess we have left,"

she said.

​

"But we don't know what's at

the top/' he answered.

​

"Maybe we were wrong to

come down. Maybe now that

we've rested the two of us

could make it to the top."

​

​

​

​

"Dear Stripe, please/' she begged.

​

"We can have a nice home and we

love each other and that's enough.

It's much more than all those

lonely climbers have."

​

She was so sure. Stripe

let her convince him.

​

But only for awhile

​

​

​

​

Stripe's hankering for the climbing

life worsened. The pillar haunted

him. He crawled there regularly,

looking up and wondering.

​

But the top remained clouded.

​

​

​

​

One day at the pillar, three thuds

startled Stripe.

​

Three big caterpillars had fallen from

someplace and smashed.

​

Two seemed dead but one still

wiggled.

​

Stripe whispered, "What happened?"

"Can I help?"

​

He made out just a few words.

​

"The top.... they* 1 1 see....

​

Butterflies alone..."

​

​

​

​

The caterpillar died.

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

Stripe crawled home and

told Yellow.

​

They were both very sober

and quite. What did the

mysterious message mean?

​

Had the caterpillars fallen

from the very top?

​

​

​

Finally, Stripe announced:

​

​

​

"I've got to know. I must go and find out the

secret of the top."

​

And more gently, "Will you come and help me?"

​

Yellow struggled inside.

​

She loved Stripe and wanted to be with him.

She wanted to help succeed.

​

​

​

But she just couldn't believe that

​

the top was worth all it asks to get there.

She wanted to get "up" too; the crawling

life wasn't enough for her either.

​

She also had to admit that it looked like

the pile was the only way to do it.

​

​

​

' • 1 1 i‘l 1 1 i|i (| ,i 1 1 L| L- ii, ,

​

*' ' V'-Wj

​

m

​

​

​

&

​

​

​

* v.

​

​

​

•H| M

​

​

​

Vi sr* ; W*

​

​

​

Stripe seemed to sure that Yellow felt

ashamed not to agree. She also felt stupid

and embarrassed since she could never put

her reasons into words that his kind of logic

would accept.

​

Yet somehow, waiting and not being sure was

better than action she couldn't believe in.

​

​

​

​

​

She couldn't explain, she couldn't

prove anything - but for all her love

she couldn't go with Stripe.

​

She just knew climbing was a wrong

way to get high.

​

"No," she said, heartsick.

​

And Stripe left her for his climb.

​

​

​

​

​

​

CHAPTER. 4

​

​

​

Yellow was desolate without

Stripe.

​

​

​

​

She crawled daily to the pile

looking for him and returning

home at night sad, but half

relieved that she never saw him.

If she had, she feared she might

plunge after him knowing that she

shouldn't.

​

She felt like doing something,

anything, rather that this

uncertain waiting.

​

"What in the world do I really

want? she sighed.

​

"It seems different every few

minutes."

​

"But I know there must be more."

​

​

​

Finally she became numb and

wandered away from everything

familiar.

​

​

​

​

One day a grey haired

caterpillar hanging upside down

on a branch surprised her.

​

He seemed caught in some hairy

stuff.

​

"You seem in trouble/' she said.

"Can I help?"

​

"No, my dear, I have to do this

to become a butterfly."

​

Her whole inside leapt.

"Butterfly - that word,"

she thought.

​

"Tell me Sir, what is a

butterfly?"

​

​

​

"It’s what you are meant to become.

​

It flies with beautiful wings and joins

the earth to heaven.

​

It drinks only nectar from the flowers

and carries the seeds to love from one

flower to another."

​

"Without butterflies the world would

soon have few flowers."

​

​

​

.jk

​

​

​

​

​

​

"It can't be true!"

grasped Yellow.

​

"How can I believe

there’s a butterfly

inside you or me

when all I see is

a fuzzy worm?"

​

​

​

​

​

"How does one become a

butterfly?" she asked pensively.

​

"You must want to fly so much

that you are willing to give up

being a caterpillar."

​

"You mean to die?" asked Yellow,

remembering the three who fell

out of the sky.

​

"Yes and No," he answered.

​

"What looks like you will die but

what's really you will still live.

Life is changed not taken away.

Isn't that different from those

who die without ever becoming

butterflies?"

​

​

​

"And if I decide to become a

butterfly/' said Yellow hesitantly.

"What do I do?"

​

"Watch me. I'm making a cocoon.

"If looks like I'm hiding, I know,

but a cocoon is no escape.

​

"It's an in-between house where

the change takes place.

​

"It's a big step since you can

never return to caterpillar life.

"During the change, it will seem

to you or to anyone who might

peek that nothing is happening -

but the butterfly is already

becoming.

​

"It just takes time!"

​

​

​

​

"And there's something else!

​

"Once you are a butterfly,

you can really love - the

kind of love that makes a

new life. It's better than all

the hugging caterpillars can

do."

​

"Oh, let me go and get

Stripe," Yellow said. But she

sadly knew he was far into

the pile to possibly reach.

​

"Don't be sad," said her new

friend. "If you change, you

can fly and show him how

beautiful butterflies are.

Maybe he will want to

become one too!"

​

​

​

​

​

Yellow was torn in anguish:

​

"What if Stripe comes back and I'm not

there? What if he doesn't recognize my

new self? Suppose he decides to stay a

caterpillar?

​

"At least we can do something as

caterpillars - we can crawl and eat.

​

We can love in some way.

​

How can two cocoons get

together at all?

​

How awful to get stuck in a cocoon?"

​

How could she risk the only life she

knew when it seemed so unlikely she

could ever be a glorious winged

creature?

​

​

​

What did she have to go on?

​

- Seeing another caterpillar who

believed enough to make his own

cocoon.

​

- And that peculiar hope which had

kept her off the pillar and leapt

within he when she heard about

butterflies.

​

​

​

The grey- haired caterpillar

continued to cover himself with

silky threads. As he wove the

last bit around his head he

called:

​

"You'll be a beautiful butterfly

- we’re all waiting for you!"

​

​

​

​

​

​

And Yellow decided to risk for a

butterfly.

​

For courage she hung right

beside the other cocoon and

began to spin her own.

​

For courgae she hung right

beside the other cocoon and

began to spin her own.

​

"Imagine, I didn't even know I

could do this. That's some

encouragement that I'm on the

right track. If I have inside me

the stuff to make cocoons -

maybe the stuff of butterflies is

there too."

​

​

​

CHAPTER. S

​

​

​

Stripe made much faster progress

this time. He was bigger and

stronger since he had taken time

out. From the beginning he

determined to get to the top.

​

He especially avoided meeting the

eyes of other crawlers. He knew

how fatal such contact could be.

​

He tried not to think of yellow.

​

He disciplined himself neither to

feel nor to be distracted.

​

​

​

​

​

Stripe didn’t seem just "disciplined"

to others - he seemed ruthless.

​

Even among climbers he was special.

​

He didn’t think he was against

anybody. He was just doing what

he had to if he was to get to the top.

​

"Don’t blame me if you

don’t succeedl It's a

tough life. Just make

up your mind/’ he would

have said had any

caterpillar complained.

​

Then one day

he was near

his goal.

​

​

​

​

​

​

Soon after, he felt tremendous

pressure and shaking.

​

Then came screams and falling

bodies.

​

Then silence; lots more light

and less weight from above.

​

​

​

Stripe had done well but when

light finally filtered down from

the top, he was close to

exhaustion.

​

At this height there was almost

no movement. All held their

positions with every skill a

lifetime of climbing had taught

them. Every small move counted

terribly.

​

There was no communication.

Only the outsides touched.

​

They were like cocoons to one

another.

​

Then one day Stripe heard a

crawler above him saying,

​

"None of us can get any higher

without getting rid of them."

​

​

​

Stripe felt awful with this new

knowledge. The mystery of the

pillar was clear.

​

He now knew what had

happened to the three

caterpillars.

​

He now knew what must always

happen on the pillar.

​

Frustration surged through

Stripe. But as he was agreeing

this was the only way "up" he

heard a tiny whisper from the

top.

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

"There’s nothing here at all!"

It was answered by another :

​

​

​

​

"Quiet fool! They'll hear you down the pillar. We’re where they want to

get. That’s what’s here!”

​

​

​

Stripe felt frozen. To be so high and not high at all!

​

It only looked good from the bottom.

​

The whisper came again,

​

"Look over there -another pillar - and there too - everywhere!"

​

Stripe became angry as well as frustrated.

​

"My pillar/’ he moaned, "only one of thousands."

​

"Millions of caterpillars climbing nowhere!"

​

"Something is really wrong...

what else is there?”

​

​

​

​

His life with Yellow seemed so far away.

​

That wasn’t it either - not quite.

​

"Yellow!” He let her image fill his being.

​

"You knew something, didn't you? Was it courage to wait?”

​

"Maybe she was right. I wish I were with her.”

​

"I could go down,” he thought. "I'd look ridiculous but maybe it’s better

than what’s happening here

​

​

​

​

But Stripe's thought was interrupted by

bursts of movement all over his level.

Each seemed to be making a last effort

to find some entry to the top. But with

every push the top layer tightened.

​

​

​

Finally one caterpillar gasped /'Unless

we try together nobody will reach the

top. Maybe if we give one big pushl

"They can't hold us down forever!"

​

But before they could act there were

cries and commotion of another kind.

Stripe struggled to the edge to see the

cause.

​

A brilliant yellow winged creature was

circling the pillar, moving freely - a

wonderful sight! How did it get so high

without climbing?

​

​

​

​

When Stripe poked out

his head the creature

seemed to recognize him.

It extended its legs and

tried to grab him.

​

Stripe caught himself just

before being pulled out of

the pile. The brilliant

creature let go and

looked sadly into his

eyes.

​

That look activated

excitement Stripe hadn't

felt since he first saw

the pillar. Words from

the past returned,

​

%% butterflies alone."

​

​

​

​

"Is this a butterfly?"

​

And what did it mean -

"the top they'll see..."?

​

It was all so strange and yet

like it was supposed to be.

And those eyes with the

look of Yellow.

​

Could it be...?

​

​

​

​

​

Such impossible thoughts!

​

Yet the excitement inside

wouldn't stop.

​

He grew happy.

​

Somehow he could escape,

he could be carried away.

​

But as this possibility became real,

something else grew inside.

​

He felt he shouldn't escape like this.

​

​

​

​

​

Looking into the creature’s eyes

he could hardly bear the love he

saw there. He felt unworthy.

​

He wanted to change, to make

up for all the times he had

refused to look at the other.

​

He tried to tell her

what he felt.

​

He stopped struggling.

​

The others stared at him

as though he were mad.

​

​

​

CHAPTER. 6

​

​

​

He turned around and began down

the pillar. This time he didn't curl up.

He stretched out full length and

looked straight into the eyes of

each caterpillar.

​

He marveled at the variety and

beauty, amazed that he had never

noticed it before.

​

He whispered to each, "I've been up;

there's nothing there."

​

Most paid no attention; they were too

intent on climbing.

​

One said, "Its sour grapes.

​

He’s bitter. I bet he never made

it to the top."

​

​

​

​

​

But some were

shocked and even

stopped climbing to

hear him better.

​

One of these

whispered in anguish,

"Don’t say it even if

it’s true. What else

can we do?”

​

​

​

Stripe's answer shocked

them all - including himself!

​

"We can fly!

​

"We can become butterflies!

"There's nothing at the top

and it doesn't matter!”

​

As he heard his own

message he realized how

he had misread the instinct

to get high.

​

To get to the "top” he

must fly, not climb.

​

Stripe looked at each

caterpillar inebriated

with joy that there could

be a butterfly inside.

​

​

​

​

​

But the reaction was worse

than before. He saw fear in

eyes. They didn't stop to

listen or speak.

​

This happy, glorious news,

was too much to take - too

good to be true.

​

And if it wasn't true?

​

The hope that lit up the

pillar dimmed. All seemed

confused and unreal.

​

The way down was so

immensely long.

​

The vision of the butterfly

faded.

​

​

​

Doubts flooded Stripe,

​

The pile took on horrible

dimensions.

​

He struggled on - barely -

blindly.

​

He seemed wrong to give up

believing seemed impossible.

​

A crawler sneered, "How could

you swallow such a story?

​

Our life is earth and climbing.

Look at us worms! We couldn’t

be butterflies inside. Make

the best of it and enjoy

caterpillar living!"

​

"Perhaps he’s right," sighed

Stripe. "I haven't any proof.

Did I only make it up because

I needed it so much?"

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

And in pain he continued

down searching for those

eyes which would let him

whisper.

​

"I saw a butterfly - there

can be more to life."

​

​

​

One - day -

finally -

​

He was down.

​

​

​

​

​

​

CHAPTER. 7

​

​

​

​

Tired and sad. Stripe

crawled off to the old

place where Yellow and he

had romped.

​

She was not there and he

was too exhausted to go

further.

​

He curled up and fell

asleep.

​

​

​

​

When he finally awoke

he found the yellow

creature fanning him

with wings of light.

​

"Is this a dream?"

he wondered.

​

​

​

​

But the dream creature acted

awfully real. She stroked him with

her feelers and most of all looked

at him so lovingly that he began to

trust that what he had said about

becoming a butterfly might be true.

​

She walked a little distance away,

then flew back. She repeated it as

if he should follow.

​

So he did.

​

​

​

​

​

They came to a

branch from

which hung two

torn sacks.

​

The creature

kept on inserting

her head, then

her tail, into

one of them.

​

Then she would

fly to him and

touch him.

​

​

​

​

​

​

Her feelers quivered

and Stripe knew she

was speaking.

​

He couldn't make out

words.

​

Then slowly he seemed

to understand

​

​

​

​

​

....Somehow he knew what to do.

​

​

​

Stripe climbed - again.

​

​

​

It got darker and darker

and he was afraid.

​

He felt he had to let go of

​

everything...

​

​

​

​

​

​

THE END

​

​

​

​

or the beginning

​

​