Butterfly

Sometime in 2002, I had the chance to be participant to Museo Pambata's seminar entitled "Establishing Children's Museum." By the way, Museo Pambata is in Roxas Boulevard, beside the US Embassy.
It was actually my mother's plan to build one in Subic. Sounds boring, di ba? Kasi ba naman pag nasa museum ka bawal maghawak ng kahit ano, bawal mag-ingay, bawal tumakbo. Kulang na lang magsalita ang museum at sabihing "Sana hindi ka na pumasok."
But this seminar was so good. We had to be like children. Nag-drawing kami. We were read children's stories. Mind you, nakaimbento pa ako ng jingle namin which could've sounded like it was made for a Pong Pagong tv episode. At one activity, everybody was made to hold hands while sitting. We were all giggling, not minding what a Science Museum guide was making one participant hold. And then the "Eeeeeeekkk!" scream by everybody. Kuryentehin ka ba naman. Siyempre, buhay pa kami. Everyone actually shrieked dahil gumapang sa mga kamay namin yong kuryente.
But this blog isn't really much about Museo. It's about kids and what we, adults, are capable of doing to them. I hope we don't forget the lessons here. This was actually shared during that seminar at Museo. Happy Children's Month!

"I remembered one morning when I discovered a cocoon in the bark of a tree, just as
a butterfly was making a hole in its case and preparing to come out. I waited a while,
but it was too long appearing and I was impatient. I bent over it and breathed on it
to warm it. I warmed it as quickly as I could and the miracle began to happen before
my eyes, faster than life. The case opened, the butterfly started slowly crawling out
and I shall never forget my horror when I saw how its wings were folded back and
crumpled; the wretched butterfly tried with its whole trembling body to unfold them.
Bending over it, I tried to help it with my breath. In vain. It needed to be hatched
patiently and the unfolding of the wings should be a gradual process in the sun. Now
it was too late. My breath had forced the butterfly to appear, all crumpled, before its
time. It struggled desperately and, a few seconds later, died in the palm of my hand.

"That little body is, I do believe, the greatest weight I have on my conscience. For I
realize today that it is a mortal sin to violate the great laws of nature. We should not
hurry, we should not be impatient, but we should confidently obey the eternal rhythm.

"Childhood:
A journey, not a race."