My interpretation of the White Chocho’s visit
We drove to the mountains to be one with nature and to celebrate my birthday. Both feats were equally accomplished, thank you very much. In a blog post on my website, I’ll share amazing pictures of scenery. Today I’ll tell you about my White Butterfly.
Chocho Found me on October 29th
Just finished with breakfast, husband and I headed out to the patio to bask in the early morning sun. As we approached two white hammocks tied side by side on tree trunks, I turned my back to the sun and looked up. The sky was a vivid shade of blue and the air was crisp and delicious. It was then I saw a white butterfly circling high above my head. Too high to reach it, I held up my finger, inviting it to land there.
The White Chocho didn’t land on my finger. Instead, feeble as a piece of wrapping tissue it started to float down. I turned, followed it with my eyes, without holding out my hand to buffer its fall and in that moment the bright rays of the sun blinded me. I blinked and found that it landed right next to my feet on the ground.
“The wind is too heavy, too cold for your tiny wings, isn’t it,” I whispered stooping down to meet it. I tapped its thorax, figuring that’s where its heart was, but it failed to respond.
“There’s a message here,” I said looking up at my husband.
“Yeah? How do you figure?” he asked.
“This little White Chocho came to remind me on my birthday that someone needs a miracle today.” I smiled. He smiled a knowing smile; privy to how I often sent out messages to people close to me on MY birthday.
It’s my birthday, and I get to MAKE A WISH. I Wish You Miracles.
“Who?” he asked, still holding that smile.
“I don’t know yet. Let me immortalize this little guy first, then we’ll get our answer,” I replied. And I started taking pictures on my iPhone. I’ll share a couple with you.
Note: I artfully placed its carcass on that red branch.
Content, I wrapped White Chocho under leaves and husband and I settled into the hammocks.
I kid you not. Just then my phone rang.
It was from a number a didn’t recognize. It came through Whatsapp. I declined it.
It rang again. It was from ‘a number I had blocked’ warned Whatsapp.
Hmm, then why send it through?
I hit ‘accept.’
“Hello,” I questioned.
“Hello.” A male voice came through the receiver.
“Hello, who is this?… Ah, it’s you… yes, today is my birthday… thank you… yes, we’re all fine… yes, yes… okay… be well. I Wish You Miracles. Goodbye.” All in less than a New York minute!
It was Rumpelstiltskin, my brother. The one who, as soon as he turned adult, never had a gracious word, or a civil word, or a mindful word for me. The one who treated me with disdain and never agreed to any suggestion I made about our dear mother. The one who cornered me every chance he got and told me I was a-thieving him of his birthright and my mother’s dinero.
As if I could.
As if I would.
As if I didn’t have better endeavors to pursue.
Four years ago when Mom died I gave him my number. Shortly after he started sending me rude, insulting messages. That is when I blocked him.
He made it a point of calling me on my special day. I was surprised he got the date right when our Mama is no longer around to remind him. I can imagine him doing the math to get the time difference to work.
He timed it well; it was 9:14.
So, so, so… what does this mean?
To me, it means that My White Chocho died for my brother’s old ways. He came to tell me that my brother is trying to rectify; probably, trying to atone… Maybe.
That’s all good and pleasing to me. But I will not go out of my way to accommodate that broken relationship with my brother. Not because I cannot forgive him – nah ah, I’ve done that many-times-over already. He IS forgiven.
But if he wants a better relationship with me he will have to seek me out.
In the meantime, I will continue to do what I’ve always done, be who I’ve always been. I will continue to pray for him and keep sending out blessings for him. I’ve done it all these years and I will remain unswayed.
So go for it brother, here’s looking at you!
…um …or perhaps it was just too cold for that poor butterfly to continue flapping his wings?
How would you handle something like this? Do you ever get messages sent to you this way? How do you react then?
These are the questions I’ll leave you with today. It would be great to hear from you – in a comment? Yes, please.
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING. I Wish You Miracles, Selma.