Spring turned into summer as the little butterfly lived faithfully in the Church atop the marble Crucifix. It was a most glorious time for her as she basked in the love she had found. She had never dreamed that such happiness could exist, and all the world seemed to reflect the wonder and glory of God. The beauty of the woodland outside and the smell of the fresh green leaves which had once enticed her as a caterpillar, now made her heart race with love and devotion for her Creator. It was as if her life had begun when she knew that Dear Jesus loved her, and she was completely captured by His love.

+ + +

The little butterfly could scarcely sleep that night, for she knew that she had promised never to leave dear Jesus. She stared at the Tabernacle as the red candle flickered beside it signifying the presence of her dear Lord. How the little butterfly wished He would tell her what He wanted her to do. She could hardly stand the thought of leaving, but perhaps she was just being selfish.

As early morning came, the little butterfly made up her mind that she must go. Tears trickled down her face as she said good-bye to dear Jesus. She promised to come back every night, but it was with a heavy heart that the little butterfly set out from the church window after the early morning Mass.

+ + +

As the icy winds of November began to blow, the little butterfly's wings became tattered and she felt ugly. She could not bear the thought of Jesus seeing her now. He had made her so beautiful, but she had lost all of her beauty. She felt that she would have been better off remaining a lowly caterpillar. Then at least, she would not know such heartache and emptiness.

+ + +

The little butterfly was could hear the familiar voice of the priest whispering softly the absolution for the boy's sins. But what she felt so strongly was the presence of Dear Jesus, her Dear Jesus, from whom she had hidden and stayed away so long.

Tears began to roll down the little butterfly's cheeks and she listened with great attentiveness to the boy's prayer. The priest spoke gently to the boy about the story of the prodigal son. A lump was in the little butterfly's throat as the priest spoke of the father running out to meet his wayward son. And tears welled up as she heard how the father embraced his son, filled with joy upon his return.

+ + +

She began to sob beneath the Tabernacle and a warm light surrounded her as she felt the gentle touch of Dear Jesus lifting her up into the palm of His hand. Her little body shook and shuddered as she repeated over and over again, "I'm so sorry, O my Dear Jesus. I love you with all my heart!"

The little butterfly was overwhelmed once again that the Lord of the Universe could be concerned with such a lowly little creature. She could see in Jesus' eyes how greatly He had suffered because of the sins of men and yet how total His forgiveness is. Truly of anyone whose heart was ever sad or broken, none compared with Dear Jesus' Sacred Heart which He allowed to be pierced out of love for His people.

That night the little butterfly slept beneath the Tabernacle and in the morning she flew up to her place upon the shoulder of the marble crucifix. She looked out the window from which she had left the church, so very long ago it seemed. She could see large flakes of snow falling and covering the earth in a dazzling whiteness. It made the whole world seem new and fresh, and she remembered joyfully what Dear Jesus had said. She repeated to herself, My sins are as white as snow, as white as snow.