Winston had just hatched from his egga new hairy caterpillar born into a hairy new world.

But Winston was smart. He would survive. No, he would thrive. Winston had a voracious appetite and grew quickly. Once in a while Winston would stop his munching to look around. Above the bush where he lived was a wide blue sky, below only dirt. Sometimes he thought he saw shadowy figures flitting about, but he dismissed them as figments of his imagination. They clearly did not belong to his bush-bound world. Then one day one of those shadowy figures alighted next to him. A startled Winston looked up from his munching. "Who are you?" he blurted out.

Vinicio acaba de salir de su huevo. Era una oruga bien peluda. Eso s, inteligencia no le faltaba. Sobrevivira a como diera lugar. Es ms, prosperara. Tena un apetito voraz y creci rpidamente. De vez en cuando, Vinicio dejaba por un momento de masticar para levantar la vista y mirar a su alrededor. Por encima del arbusto en que se solazaba se extenda el amplio cielo azul. Por debajo, solamente tierra. A veces le pareca ver unas guras sombreadas revoloteando a su alrededor, pero estaba convencido de que eso eran imaginaciones suyas. En todo caso era algo ajeno a su pequeo mundo, su arbusto. Un da una de esas guras sombreadas se pos junto a l. Sorprendido, Vinicio dej de mordisquear y tragar y levant la vista. T quin eres? le espet

"Don't you recognize your own kind? I'm a butterfly. So will you be one day. You will leave your little bush behind, glide on the wind, and see the world as it really is." "Me? A butterfly? Nah," Winston protested. "I'm a caterpillar. Period. Now if you will excuse me" "It works like this," the butterfly patiently tried to explain. "First you spin a cocoon around yourself. Then you go to sleep for a few weeks. Then you wake up feeling tingly all over. You wiggle your feet and discover that instead of the dozens you had before, you're down to sixbut they're way longer! Then you start to feel really claustrophobic in your cocoon, so you push your way out of it. You check out your new self, flap your wings a few times, and soon you are airborne."

No reconoces a los de tu propia especie? Soy una mariposa, lo mismo que sers t un da. Abandonars tu arbusto, te dejars llevar por el viento y vers el mundo tal como es en realidad. Yo, una mariposa? Qu va! protest Vinicio. Soy una oruga y punto. Con permiso... Ocurre de la siguiente manera se dispuso a explicarle pacientemente la mariposa. Primero te envuelves en un capullo que t mismo tejes. Luego duermes en l varias semanas hasta que un da te despiertas con un cosquilleo por todas partes. Al mover las patas descubres que en vez de tener decenas como antes, no te quedan sino seis, solo que son mucho ms largas. Entonces te entra una insoportable claustrofobia que te impele a salir del capullo. Te echas una miradita, empiezas a batir las alas y en un santiamn ests volando.

"Nonsense!" Winston retorted. "Do you take me for an idiot? I'm a caterpillar!" The butterfly tried every form of reason and persuasion, but eventually gave up. "Have it your way," he said sadly as he took flight. In the days that followed, whenever Winston remembered the butterfly, he would smirk and say even more confidently than the time before, "Nonsense!!" Then one day Winston thought he heard a whisper. "Spin a cocoon." The voice was coming from inside, but it wasn't his. This is crazy! he thought. And he shrugged it off.

Majaderas! replic Vinicio. Me tomas por idiota? Soy una oruga! La mariposa intent por todos los medios razonar con l y persuadirlo, pero al nal se dio por vencida. Muy bien, como quieras le dijo antes de reemprender el vuelo. En los das que siguieron, cuando Vinicio recordaba a la mariposa, esbozaba una sonrisita socarrona y se deca cada vez ms seguro de s mismo: Tonteras! Hasta que un da Vinicio crey escuchar una vocecilla que le deca: Teje un capullo. La voz provena de dentro, pero no era la suya. Eso es una locura!, pens. Y se olvid del asunto.

And that brings us to the sad end of our story. Winter came, the leaves that Winston loved so much withered and died and fluttered to the ground, and soon poor Winston joined them.

Con eso llegamos al nal de nuestra triste historia. Lleg el invierno. Las hojas que tanto le gustaban a Vinicio se secaron, murieron y cayeron al suelo. Al cabo de poco tiempo, Vinicio padeci la misma suerte.

Moral: Embrace change when it comes your way. Change takes time and effort, but good changes are worth it in the long run.

Moraleja: Acoge los cambios con buen nimo. Los cambios requieren tiempo y esfuerzo, pero si son para bien, a la larga valen la pena.

Para ver mas cuentos bilinges para nios, visite www.freekidstories.com

Authored by Curtis Peter Van Gorder. Artwork by Didier Martin. The Family International