Photo by Travis Blessing on Unsplash

– Tell me another story.

– Okay, but it'll be the last one for tonight. You close your eyes and go to sleep after this one, deal?

– Deal.

– So here it goes, the story of the black butterfly:

Of all the things that fly

None was more intriguing than the black butterfly

Some said he came from the north, others from the south

And the only place he could rest was on a beautiful lady's mouth

So he flew from lips to lips

Afraid he might miss a kiss

The ladies knew it was in his nature to come and go

But they still let him touch and soothe their souls

– Why can he only rest on a lady's lips?

– Because it's the softest place in the world, and he's a fragile little thing, that black butterfly.

– Okay, go on.

When he was a caterpillar, one morning

An old wizard cast a spell upon him

From that day on, if he wanted to survive

He would always have to drink tears from a lady's eyes

Even though the butterfly felt quite bad

He made sure every lady he met got a little sad

Because he would always come to fear

That the lady might not shed a tear

But in the end, they all cried

Once they met the black butterfly

– I don't understand. Why does he have to drink the lady's tears to survive?

– Because it’s the most powerful thing in the world.

– Isn’t Superman the most powerful in the world?

– Don't worry, you'll understand better when you grow older.

– When I’ll be old like you?

– Oh, sooner than that, at least I hope.

His wings weren’t as big as a bird’s

So before long, he got tired

Of flying frantically from sky to sky

And like every single other butterfly

He knew he would live a pretty short life

So between his trips from lips to lips

He opened his small eyes, searching for tips

For his demise was something he couldn’t deny

And he knew he quickly had to learn how to die

– This is kind of a sad story, isn’t it?

– Every good story has something sad to it. That’s what makes its moments of happiness worth telling, over and over again.

– But sad stories make people cry.

– Yes, but they also remind them how important it is to smile once their eyes have dried.

– Well… okay, go on.

After a while he didn’t know what to think

For he had landed on so many lips, seen so much pink

He had been from station to station like a raging train

Dragging along his black wagons of pain

But one day something crazy happened

And like all crazy things, it happened for a reason

See just when he was ready to give up

His fate got twisted by Lady Luck

– Wait a minute, who’s that Lady Luck?

– Oh she’s a kind lady, though a bit shy.

– What does she look like, is she pretty?

– She’s gorgeous, but she doesn’t show herself much. That’s why it’s always a pleasure when she decides to show up.

– Have you already met her?

– Yes, yes. A couple of times. Can you keep a secret?

– Sure!

– I owe her a LOT.

– A lot of money?

– No, no, nothing like that. Listen, this will make for another story all right?

– All right, go on.

One day, the butterfly met a very special person

Her eyes shun brighter than a hundred diamonds

And of all the ladies he had met

This one was surely the prettiest

Her heart was filled with joy and kindness

And her smile could heal any illness

So the black butterfly instantly got mad

When he thought about her getting sad

But he made her cry anyway

For he wanted to live, he wanted to stay

And on that day

His troubles were all blown away

For the tears he drank clenched his thirst

As he had finally met the lady who could lift his curse

As days passed, the black butterfly turned gold

And he stayed on her lips until he got very, very old

– Is that it? What happens next?

– Oh no, what happens next is what they call a miracle.

– A miracle? What kind of miracle, Dad?

– Well, you know, the kind of miracle who asks you to tell him stories before he goes to bed.

– What, me?

– Yeah, you! You might not understand this yet, but you are the end of this story. And you’re also the beginning of another big, great story.

– What’s it called?

– Your life, my son.