The Price of Happiness

I cried.

I couldn't help it. It was unexpected. In a flash, the significance of it all zoomed in to focus and I became acutely aware of the parallel in my life.

You are going to laugh, I know it. It sounds silly as I try write this, I am unequal to the task. But even now, I have tears in my eyes. No, I'm bawling.

These little beings came into my life. I watched them eat and grow. I worried about them. I kept them from danger. I watched as they went through the difficult change from infant state to adolescence.

They completely changed! Unrecognizable were they, in their hard shells. Oblivious to the world around them. Quietly however, a change was happening inside that I could not witness.

Time passed and I began to wonder if they would stay in that hard shell forever. Maybe I didn't give them enough warmth. Maybe I didn't protect them well enough (they did fall a few times). I was close to giving up.

One morning the shells were gone. Out were these beautiful, winged creatures. Now the world shone around them. They were eager to take it all in. They grew stronger and stronger until...

I had to let them go. I couldn't hold on to them any longer. They were destined to be free, brilliant little spots of color in the world. They knew their task better than I did. It was put into them by the Creator. We watched in awe as they took flight.

The shouts of joy from my children at the butterflies flight resonated in heart and released a pang of sorrow. I thought of my own little children taking flight into the world someday. I thought of how they came to me as these sweet, helpless, radiant little beings. I've watched them grow through their triumphs and falls. My sacrifice, tears, laughter, prayers, time and love binds them to me. I will watch them go through their metamorphosis into young adults. And then one day, I will let them go, no longer mine. It is just as much their destiny as the little butterfly's, to follow the task the Creator has put in them.

The memory of their toothless first smiles, wobbly first steps, soft cheeks pressed against mine; the joy of understanding as their first words are read; their first real pleadings for help from Heavenly Father; the way the sun shines on their hair as they spin in circles on the front lawn; the tears of sadness for a mistake that was made; the kindness they show to others; the funny songs and movies the made...these memories and many more will always stay with me. My empty chrysalids--evidence of the work it took to create the men and women my children will become.

I can't describe the immense sweetness and incalculable sorrow that was manifested by my tears. Nor could I explain it to my worried daughter when she asked, "Mom, why are you crying?"

"Don't worry mom," she said, "they will be all right. Don't you think they are happy?"

I nodded and cried.