Aprile 2017


An old mulberry tree, seamed with wrinkles but full of wisdom, housed a small colony of caterpillars. They were honest, hardworking and their demands were few. They ate, slept and, except for some short visit to the bar of the penultimate branch to the right, they made no fuss. Though monotonous their life went by quietly. Only during the election period the caterpillars got heated due to the irreconcilable differences between the parties. Right-wing caterpillars claimed that leaves have to be eaten from right to left, left-wing caterpillars claimed the contrary, centre caterpillars began to eat wherever it happens. Nobody asked for leaves opinion. All thought that they were made only to be chewed. The good old mulberry tree fed all and spent all the time dozing on the sound of the tireless mandibles of its guests. Among all caterpillars John was the most curious: he frequently stopped to talk with the old and wise mulberry tree. “You’re really lucky, old man,” John said to the mulberry tree. “You live a peaceful life.” You know that autumn will follow summer, then winter will come, and then everything will begin from scratch. Our life, instead, is so short. A flash, just the time to crack our mandibles and everything is over”.

The mulberry tree laughed and said: “John, I’ve explained you many times that it will not end like that! You will become a beautiful creature, all will envy and adimire you…”. John shook his big head and muttered: “You never stop teasing me. I know that everybody loathe us caterpillars. All notice us with disgust. No poet has never dedicated us a poem. All we have to do is eat and gain weight. And that’s all.” “John,” once the mulberry tree asked, “do you dream?”. The caterpillar blushed. “Sometimes,” he shyly replied. “And what do you dream?”. “The angels,” he said, “creatures flying in a beautiful world.” “And are you one of those in the dream?”. “Yes, I am” the caterpillar John softly muttered and blushed again. Once again the mulberry tree blasted out laughing. “John, you caterpillars are the only creatures whose dreams come true and you don’t believe it!”. Sometimes, the caterpillar John talked about this with his friends. “Who puts these ideas into your head?”, Pierbruco muttered. “Time flies, there is nothing after this! Absolutely nothing. You only live once, so eat, drink and have fun as much as you can! “. “But the mulberry tree says we will become beautiful winged beings”. “Nonsense! They invent everything to keep us quiet,” his friend replied. John shook his head and began again to eat. “Everything will soon end… scrunch… There is nothing after this… scrunch… I definetely eat, drink and enjoy as much as I can… scrunch… but… scrunch… I am not happy… scrunch. My dreams will always remain dreams. They will never become a reality. They are only illusions “, mumbled. The warm autumn sun rays began soon to light up many small roundish white cocoons scattered here and there on the leaves of the old mulberry tree. One morning John, moving very slowly and stricken by torpor, addressed the mulberry tree. “I have come to greet you. This is the end of everything. I am the last one. There are only graves around. And now I have to build my own! “. “Finally! Some leaves can start growing again! I have already begun to enjoy the silence! You have virtually stripped me! Bye-bye, John, this is just a see you soon!”, the mulberry tree smiled. “You’re wrong, dear mulberry. This… sigh… is… a goodbye, my friend!”, the caterpillar said with the heart swollen with sadness. “A real goodbye. Dreams never come true, they will always remain just dreams. Sigh!”. John slowly began to become a cocoon. “Oh,” said the mulberry tree, “you’ll see!”. And he began to rock the white cocoons hanging from its branches. In the spring, a beautiful butterfly with red and yellow wings lightly fluttered around the mulberry tree. “Hey, mulberry, what are you doing? Are you not happy for this spring sun? “. “Hello John! As you can see I was right!” the old tree smiled. “Have you already forgotten who you were until recently?”.

Talking about Resurrection to people is just like talking about butterflies to caterpillars. Numerous men and women of our time think and act like the caterpillars. They eat, drink and enjoy as much as they can, after all don’t we live only once?

30 March 2017