Once
a spider had a best friend,

She
knew her friend from end to end of

Transparent
wing to the tip of spiky antennae.

Her
friend was a butterfly: she hovered over the sky

She
beat her wings to fly, like a goose, only different.

She
was lighter than air and swifter than the fastest wind.

But
she had a problem: Why did summer have to die?

The
spider said, “All good things must have their end.”

The
butterfly said, “But things were better before; I had

An
endless supply of nectar to chose from in March.”

The
spider rubbed her hands and said, “Look at my web.”

The
butterfly looked and said, “I see different colors.”

This
was true: prisms sparkled on the web, like beads.

The
spider gestured to them and said, “In my work,

I
weave a tale of silver and gold, of stories untold.”

The
butterfly was confused. She asked, “Is gold immortal?”

The
spider pointed up and said, “Our Creator is immortal. He lives forever.

But
the silver stands for the silver lining which we many find

In
each season of the year, whether rainy, gloomy, or dull.”

The
spider looked at a rose and said, “Even a flower has painful thorns.

But
we pay attention to the beauty which it gives in spite of its sharpness.”

 “And
the gold?” The butterfly asked impatiently.

The
spider sidled closer and said, “The gold stands for opportunities.

When
the golden cup of summer has been poured into fall, you will leave

For
warmer Mexico. Your first journey.”

A
smile flickered across the butterfly’s face as she said, “I hadn’t thought of
that.”

With
another leap down, the spider said, “Lastly, the stories that remain untold in
my web are the stories of the seasons themselves. The stories of the plants,
animals, and insects that I meet.

I
create a pattern in my web which mirrors these adventures.” The web blew on the
fence post.

The
spider looked proudly at her web and said, “A tree-like pattern stands for a
complicated adventure, like the time that I almost lost my home to a rival from
a neighboring field.”

“So, what are you trying to tell me?”
The butterfly asked; she wanted to make sure that she understood.

“Each season, in all its variety, gives
a reason to live and rejoice.” The spider said.

Then, the spider climbed back up her
web and said, “If you need me, I’ll be taking a nap.

But you can ring on the nail… if it’s
an emergency.” She pointed to a rusted nail nearby.

Then, the spider fell asleep. She was
quite protective of her naps. The butterfly smiled as she spread her wings and
dove off the fence post, she looked forward to another day.