When I crept out of my chrysalis so long ago, blinking in the bright sunlight, I knew what I had to do. Fly.

And fly I did, when my wings had dried and I had nourished myself. Northward. I did not know why, and yet I did.

Though my short life would end long before I reached wherever it was my instincts told me to go, I went. Not for myself. But for you.

And now I have come to the end of my journey. My weak wings falter as they struggle to hold me up. My legs tremble beneath me. At just a few weeks old, I am already ancient. Soon, I will die, and my body will join the earth beneath me.

But first, I rest on a leaf. And I talk to you.

You are no more than a speck before me, and yet already you hold within you the promise of new life in the journey to come.

Already I can feel the stirrings of life within you. You will be hungry those first few days. Oh yes. So very hungry. And you will grow. Soon, you will retreat within a chrysalis that you will build. And there you will wait.

When you have grown, you will emerge from your case, even as I did not so long ago. And you will continue to fly north.

I do not know if you will reach wherever it is that we are going. But I beg you to fly. If not for yourself, then think of the generations to come.

They will depend on you, even as you depended on me to bring you thus far. I have fulfilled my duty.

It was hard at times. Oh yes, very hard. Why should I have come all this way, only to die? Why should I not stay where I was, in the south, and enjoy my short life? Ah, I was young then. Young and ignorant.

I am glad now that I continued to fly north. For you.

Three hundred of your brothers and sisters lie, just like you, on leaves all around me. I have done well. I have kept my promise.

I beg of you now to keep yours.

Persevere. Your brothers and sisters, when they hatch, will help you. I know you will be weak at times. You will be young, just as I was. You will be ignorant and headstrong. You will want to do things your own way.

Follow your instincts. Follow nature's ways. They will guide you. And as you fly, think of me.

It will not be long now. Soon, my body will float down, empty and lifeless, to join the many bodies of those that have come before. They came with a purpose. They came for a reason.

This is our legacy. Mine and yours. Keep it for the generations to come. Talk to them, even as I now talk to you. Remind them, at the end of your long flight, of our legacy.

I did not fly for myself. Not once.

I flew for you.