Yellow, Yellow Butterfly

Dear Levi,

Something amazing happened today. I went outside on lunch (yes, it’s amazing that I finally have an hour lunch just like you, too!) and stood in the sunshine, basking in the liquid warmth. I’m so unaccustomed to being in a huge dark building without my big glass windows, swinging patio doors, and cheery drive through window. I soaked up the freshness of real air, admired the rolling dark grey clouds bringing in another thunderstorm, and strengenthed from fingers to toes.

And when I looked back up, I saw a fluttering in the landscaped bushes. I couldn’t believe my eyes – the most beautiful, exquisite yellow butterfly! As yellow as you could ever wish for yellow, without another psot of color anywhere. I remembered the butterfly bushes at the park in Edmond, with the baby trees of every kind, and the bridge… and you. This yellow, happy-go-lucky butterfly fluttered into the air over my head and disappeared high up into the skies. Amarillo, right? The world you taught me. Did I ever teach yout the Russian word? Zholtii. Not quiet as pretty, but still so lovely a meaning… 

I walked back inside from break and opened the folder where I am keeping my letters to you during desk work, and I caught a glimpse of my raindress in the mirror, the one Nina helped me buy on Sumskaya Street, a fine classy pencil suit of perfect yellow linen, complete with little amber drop buttons and a trench coat collar. You’ve never seen it. I was holding it as a surprise in the spring….. when I did finally pull it out I was all alone, and it was my graduation rehearsal, and I had lost so much weight it hung sadly on me, tired and lifeless.

I can still see that little butterfly in my mind, effortlessly fluttering about. It seemed like such a good omen, a kind of sign from God, a whimsical promise of happier days to come. Why would God even take time to think of me? Why? His mercy and kindness is so humbling, that he would notice the girl in the yellow dress and the butterfly in the yellow wings, even if no one else does in this city.

Your star,

Rigel