The Tale of Tiddly The Caterpillar

When I was in Year 9 at school I had a great love of nature, so it should not have been a surprise to my Geography teacher that I would bring a caterpillar to class. You see, one day during my lunch hour I found a gorgeous little green caterpillar. He was so small and so delicate that I could almost see through his translucent fluro green skin. When I plucked him from his happy nibbling place I was sure I was doing him some grand favour.


I bet I'm saving him from certain death, I thought, out here, in the open -- camouflaged as he was -- he is sure to be consumed by some ravenous bird.

With such love, such care and concern, I carefully picked up the little caterpillar, making sure I took a branch or two with me -- wildlife need their natural habitat to survive -- I carried this forlorn creature with me around the playground. As happens, the bell went and I promptly -- well as promptly as a Year 9 student with a caterpillar can -- made my way to my next class - Geography.

My Geography teacher was a nature loving hippie if ever I saw one. She loved the outdoors as much as she loved a good tan -- her leathery suncrisped skin attested that that was a whole lot! I naturally thought young Tiddly -- for that is what I named my cherished caterpillar -- would find certain refuge in the class of such a teacher.

You cannot imagine my horror, my pain, my sheer disbelief when this esteemed teacher of mine approached my desk, noticed Tiddly and before they could be properly introduced, squashed all the delicate greeness out of his tiny little body.

"NOOOOO!" I wailed, "You killed Tiddly! That was Tiddly!"

I felt defeated. My respect for my Geography teacher plummeted and I was thrust into a world of grief and loss.

"It's a bug," shrugged my Geo teacher. I could hardly believe the words had left her lips. I could hardly believe it. Who would have thought that losing such a tiny thing would have such a massive impact.

Remembering Tiddly, I was greatly encouraged by the sight of three Year 10 boys ambling into my Geography class today, 10 minutes late, with a caterpillar, a gorgeous green caterpillar and a lesson's supply of jucy green leaves.

I allowed the boys to enter and take their seats and with the loss of Tiddly still burning in my heart I approached the boys. They looked at me warily.

"It's a caterpillar, Miss. We saved it from a huge bird. We saw this leaf wiggling and thought we'd look and then we saw this...the caterpillar, it wasn't a leaf at all, it was a caterpillar and we saved it, Miss. The bird was going to eat it. We saved it!"

My heart swelled with pride and joy till it almost burst. Here, in my class, were young men who cared for the plight of insects! Here, so many years after the senseless slaughter of innocent Tiddly, were young men seeking refuge for beautiful defenseless caterpillars in a Geography class, in the very same school at which I attended. It was like I was being offered a second chance. A chance to redeem my attempts to save Tiddly so many painful years before.

"Alright, boys, you can keep the caterpillar as long as it doesn't distract you from the lesson."

"Okay, Miss. We saved it you know."

"I know. It's beautiful. You are real insect warriors." I said approvingly.

They grinned. I felt proud. I lovingly patted the gorgeous caterpillar and walked back to the front of the classroom.

It was a beautiful day.

I am a successful teacher, I thought, for I, -- unlike my own Geography teacher -- have encouraged my students to care for small defenseless creatures and have provided refuge for caterpillars.

What more could a teacher hope for?

"Miss," the boys called out to me as I walked across the pick-up zone at the end of the day. "Miss!" It was my insect warriors.

"Yes," I smiled.

"We cut the caterpillar in half!"

"You wha--!"

"We cut the caterpillar in hal--"

"...and we squashed it!"

It took all the strength I could muster to refrain from screaming out, Not Tiddly! You killed Tiddly! I can't believe you killed Tiddly!

"I thought you could be trusted with caterpillars! I thought you were insect warriors!" I exclaimed.

"Humph, you though wrong, Miss," scoffed one of the boys till the spiky haired boy interrupted with earnesty, "We had to, Miss. We let it go and a bird bit it in half. It was going to eat it, it bit it in half, so we had to stomp on it."

A likely act of mercy, I thought as I departed, once again deflated, once again plummeting into a world of loss and woe! Another caterpillar that will never see its destiny fulfilled. Another caterpillar who will never see the sky, will never fly, will never soar above this dark cold earth.

I left school today with a profound sense of failure, loss and grief, and a realisation that all these years on, I still miss little Tiddly. Despite it all, I still believe teachers can make a difference. One day, one fine day, I'll teach students to love caterpillars as I do and then the world will be a better place. Then the world will be beautiful. It's bound to be with so many more butterflies around. There ought to be more butterflies.