Lina crawled through the tall grass beside the babbling stream. She parted the blades with her hands. A tiny blue butterfly lay stuck on the ground, one wing torn.
She cupped her hands gently and lifted the butterfly onto her palm. It trembled in the warm sunlight. "Don't worry," she whispered. "I'll take you to the oak tree."
Lina carried the butterfly toward the shade of the big old oak tree. The stream hummed nearby as she walked. She found a soft leaf and pressed it under the butterfly like a little bed.
She sat beside the leaf all morning. Lina dipped a blade of grass into a purple wildflower and let the butterfly sip the sweet nectar. "Drink up," she said softly.
Each day she brought a different flower. Purple one day, yellow the next, then pink. The butterfly grew stronger but still could not lift its wings.
Lina tapped her fingers on the leaf and waited. She watched the butterfly's wings tremble in the sunlight. "Soon," she thought. "You'll fly soon. I know you will."
On the third day, Lina placed the butterfly on a bright orange marigold near the oak tree. She stepped back and held her breath. The butterfly opened its wings slowly.
The butterfly stretched its wings. One was still crooked, but the other was perfect. It lifted into the warm sun and hovered in the air.
Lina's hands flew to her mouth. She jumped up and down as the butterfly circled her head. Once. Twice. Three times. "You're flying!" she cheered with delight.
The butterfly zipped higher and higher until it disappeared over the meadow. Lina stood very still, watching the empty sky. She felt a little sad but also proud.
She picked at a dandelion puff and let it float away on the breeze. The stream babbled on as usual. Lina walked home with scuffed shoes and grass seeds in her hair.
Each morning when Lina ran out to the meadow, the blue butterfly was already there. It landed on her knee and flapped its wings. Lina giggled. "You came back!" she laughed.
