Like feeling worth something...
Goodnight old friend, said the the old fir to the poor caterpillar as snow fell on him. It was a beautiful year in which the young caterpillar was born, his colors were by far the most beautiful of all the caterpillars and other forest creatures in the woodland. The small caterpillar had lived in the woodland almost a year when he begain to collect himself and understand that his life as a mere land dweller was over, and that it was time for him to begain to really work hard and build his coccoon so that he could change into a butterfly and really fulfill his goals of life. Sadly, though the caterpillar had worked so hard, it just happened that he was born too late in the year, and that by the time he had built most of his coccoon, the snow had already begain to lay across his back, stiffening up his spine, splitting him in two. As the poor caterpillar lay in agonizing paing the old fir wept knowing that he too would always be green, and always alone...