THE STORY OF FRED CRUMPLES
Fred Crumples arrived as a caterpillar in a box marked special delivery. The box containing Fred Crumples was part of the butterfly tree house ordered by Mrs. Clomp’s first grade classroom. However, Fred Crumples had not earned the name Fred Crumples yet. Upon his arrival, he was just another ordinary belly growling caterpillar in constant search of food to munch upon.
Fred Crumples was placed in the small tree house with all the other caterpillars. Since he was always hungry, he crawled quickly to a piece of milk weed and began munching on it. As he ate he watched the other caterpillars busily munching their milk weed and tree sap along with him. He liked watching the other caterpillars.
He noticed little faces staring at him throughout the day from outside of the tree house. Since Fred had never been outside of his tree house he wondered what kind of strange caterpillar’s these faces belonged to. Fred continued to eat day after day watching the faces watch him. Sometimes he made a funny face at these funny faces, but that did not stop them from staring at him.
After days and days of eating, when Fred finally felt he could eat no more he had a strange urge to climb to the top of the tree house. When he made it to the top, he had even a stranger urge to hang upside down hooking his head to the side like that of the letter J. He saw some of the other caterpillars doing the same thing.
He heard several of the faces say excitedly, “They are in J formation. Look! Look! Are they building their chrysalis now, Mrs. Clomp?” Fred Crumples didn’t know anything about chrysalis’ he just knew he felt like weaving a cozy blanket around himself as long as he was just hanging here upside down. The little faces continued to star at him. He wondered if they liked to hang from the ceiling too. He was the first caterpillar to spin his cozy blanket. The faces kept saying he was spinning a chrysalis, but Fred Crumples knew it was his blanket. He took one last look around the outside world before he put the final stitch in his blanket, closing himself off from the outside world. He was the first one tucked in snuggly. That made him proud.
Being tucked away in his cozy chrysalis made Fred Crumples sleepy. Soon he drifted off. He couldn’t see the faces peering at him from inside his chrysalis. He slept and slept.
Finally, many days later, exactly how many Fred Crumples was not sure of, he woke up. Another urge struck him. This time, he wanted out of his cozy blanket. Fred Crumples was extremely thirsty. He chewed a little hole in the side of his chrysalis. The hole was big enough for him to crawl out of. Except Fred Crumples didn’t crawl, he rather hobbled because his feet were different. His body had changed and now he had wings.
Fred Crumples clung to the side of his chrysalis flapping his wings slowly. When he was sure his wings were entirely dry he decided to try them out. He let go of the chrysalis flapping his wings as hard as he could. Down, down, down Fred Crumples fell to the bottom of the tree house. He landed with the tiniest thump. He wings did not work.
He heard one of the faces peering in say, “His wings are all crumply.” Fred didn’t know what crumply meant. He only knew that he couldn’t fly.
As the days passed, he heard the faces call him Fred Crumples. He guessed all butterflies must get names so his must be Fred Crumples. He wondered if that was because his wings were all crumply…whatever that meant.
Fred Crumples watched as all the Butterflies emerged from their slumber. He watched them flap their wings dry…and fly. They fluttered to and fro around the tree house. Fred tried and tried to fly, but nothing ever happened.
The other Butterfly’s zoomed around with ease landing on the pieces of fruit and homemade nectar that had been placed in the cage. Fred Crumples’ crumply wings made it difficult for him to even walk. He stumbled quite a bit. The faces that peered at him often reached in to help Fred Crumples up on the slice of peach. When he appeared to be done slurping the juice, the faces would reach their hands in and gently help him back off. Most of the time Fred Crumples lay at an awkward angle off to the side at the bottom of the tree house watching the other butterfly’s and wishing and wishing he could fly.
He heard the faces say things like “Where’s Fred Crumples?” Or “How is Fred Crumples doing today?” “Can I help Fred Crumples, Mrs. Clomp?” It was always Fred Crumples that the faces talked about. It was always Fred Crumples that was helped up to the nectar dish or put upon the peach slice. In fact it was always only his name he heard. He wondered if any of the other Butterflies even had names. The faces only seemed concerned with Fred Crumples.
Finally on a beautiful fall day, the faces took the butterfly tree house outside. Fred Crumples was not sure what going on as the faces unzipped the tree house displaying the most beautiful blue sky that Fred Crumples had ever seen. One by one each butterfly flapped its wings rising up up up towards the beautiful blue sky and out of the tree house. Fred Crumples watched them fly off until he could no longer see them. He wanted to see that blue sky up close. He wanted to touch it.
Fred Crumples hobbled along as best he could at the bottom of the tree house trying to pick up speed. He flapped his wings hard, harder and finally the hardest he could muster. The air caught his wings and for a moment Fred Crumples legs lifted off the ground. He thought for sure he was going to fly. But nothing happened. He plopped back down. His wings were too crumply to work. He just could not fly. Defeated, he lay at the bottom of house tilted off to the side in his usually awkward position.
He heard one of the faces say, “I’m sad for Fred Crumples. I wish he could learn to fly.”
Another face said, “Well I’m happy that we get to keep Fred Crumples. I love him the most.”
He heard a bunch of me too’s, and Fred Crumple, is my favorite but he was too exhausted to think. He did not know why he would be anybody’s favorite. He was too crumply to fly like a butterfly should.
The next several days Fred spent all alone in the butterfly tree house. No butterfly’s to watch. No company. Fred Crumples was all by himself. The faces still helped him up on the peach slice and onto the nectar bowl. And every day he heard them say, “Where’s Fred Crumples" and "How’s Fred Crumples doing,” even though he was the only butterfly in the house. He missed his butterfly companions and more than anything as the days passed he wished he could fly.
He grew old as butterflies do all alone in the butterfly tree house with all of the faces still caring for him. He wanted to say to the faces, I’m just a crumply old butterfly why would you care about me? But of course, Fred Crumples could not talk.
Fred Crumples woke up especially early one bright sunny fall day. He was tired. His legs were tired, his wings felt heavy and he was especially thirsty. The faces had not arrived yet that day to help him to his nectar. Funny how they come and go thought Fred Crumples. He mustered all of his strength to climb by himself to the top of the peach slice to relieve his thirst. He sipped and sipped.
Then Fred had the strangest sensation. His mind began to sweep him away to a place where butterflies with crumpled wings could soar. Fred Crumples very much liked this place. He laid his head atop the peach slice falling deeply asleep. Off he went to join this land.
Fred Crumples could no longer hear the faces who found his crumpled little body lying lifeless atop of the peach slice later that morning. He didn’t hear them say, “What’s wrong with Fred Crumples, Mrs. Clomp?” He didn’t hear the cries in their throats or see the tears cascading down their cheeks as they removed Fred Crumples from the peach slice.
Later that morning Mrs. Clomp and her first grade classroom placed Fred Crumples in a small match box container and buried him in the flower bed outside of the classroom window. “He never learned to fly. That’s no fair,” said a small face. If Fred Crumples had been alive he might have heard Mrs. Clomp respond to the small face as well as all of the other little faces with tear streaked cheeks that Fred Crumples purpose here was not to learn to fly but teach others how to love.
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