Payson Road's Butterfly

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Missy the Butterfly

At Payson Road, we're very proud of our Mascot the Butterfly, affectionately named "Missy" after one of our Online Group members, Missy Fiquet, whose recovery commitment truly represents the cycle of the butterfly. It symbolizes our commitment to the cycle of change and rebirth. My hope for everyone that comes to Payson Road whether it be as a Post it Member, an Online Group Member or just a Site Visitor, is that they follow the path of our butterfly. We are here to support and help everyone on the journey that ultimately leads to spreading their own wings. Recovery is the goal.

Here's a children's story written by Payson Road's President, Sarah Mason about the Butterfly. It defines the symbol of the Butterfly and its role as Payson Road mascot.

Also, check out our Testimonials page for more information on how the butterfly symbolizes the journey into recovery.

The Little Butterfly
by Sarah Mason

Once upon a time there was a little butterfly who thought she could fly. She had beautiful wings of gold with painted specs of all the colors of the rainbow. She took flight onto mountains and fields always finding an adventure along the way. The sun and the moon were her sisters and the earth her mother. She was young but her spirit was filled with grace and her soul ancient as the oceans she passed over.

The butterfly had no fears. She spent every moment beaming in the sunshine of life. But one day a cloud was cast upon her as she whisked through beds of sleeping flowers. A cold wind caught her wings and cast her spinning inside a twister of sleet and fog. Whirling around out of control not knowing where she was going or why this was happening to her. She struggled frantically trying to get her baring but lost her battle to the Gods of thunder who'd captured her in their arms of terror and took her away to a far off place unknown to her. She cast off into a baron wasteland. Her wings broken and discolored. She was alone and frightened. Her spirit drained as she limped along the sands shaking with fear and desperation.

Suddenly a voice was heard loud from the heavens above. The little butterfly trembled as the sound shook the earth. The voice was not kind to the butterfly. It spoke of evil and treason. It warned the butterfly of its failures, "Who do you think you are??? Only the Gods can be so beautiful and have the power of flight! How dare you be so bold.!" The butterfly begged the voice to spare it. She didn't understand what she had done wrong. She did not wish to hurt anyone she just wanted to fly and let her colors be seen. But the voice was relentless in its shame and torment. It would not give up until every last bit of life was sucked from the butterflies eyes and she fell helplessly into the cold earth.

The butterfly was lost. Hungry, tired and weak. She had learned to be something she was not. Carefree and loving once was now replaced by guilt and fear. She limped along through the desserts as a small creature boxed into a world that wouldn't fit her. Her pain was immense but she could not free herself because the shame was too much for her to take on. So she lived with her plight. Starving for creation and expression. The very things that made her soar into the heavens.

When she could she would fill up with life by rejoicing in the beauty of the daisies in the fields. But it was too much. She would feel guilty and unworthy of this joy so again to suffer she would go back to the dessert. Up and down up and down she would go skating through a purgatory of highs and lows. Never finding the balance and peace. The glowing energy of life she had once defined had been replaced by a fear and loathing of self. The butterfly had fallen.

Eighteen springs and eighteen summers gone now. The butterfly had grown out of its youth. The rains were kind this season. They lent blood to the fields and sprung new life into the earth. The Spring came for all. The butterfly awoke. It's wings weren't shiny and its colors were slightly dulled. But something had changed. Early one morning a beam of light shone down onto the fields. The butterfly lay silently but awoke from the heat of the beam.

A message that cut to the heart of all beings, it sang out in harmonious bliss to the its children of the earth "all my children are worthy and beautiful and deserving of all the fruits this season shall bring". The butterflies wings began to flicker as she slowly rose. Looking at her wings she noticed red, and green, and violet and gold. The colors were softer. Not as vibrant but still bold. She smiled as she looked to the skies. A warm dusty wind swept the fields and the butterfly was safely carried into its arms. As it grew her wings began to flap faster and faster than wilder and wilder. She was flying. She was flying. She dipped down into the meadows and winked at her flowery friends then flew away never to return to that land. She did not go home. But she went on. And she flew. And she flew and she flew.

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Website designed and administered by Sarah Mason, sarah @ paysonroad.com. Website Logo and Graphics Designed by Tahara Hasan. Payson Road was created Copyright © June 2, 2000. All rights reserved. Copyright © 2000-5 [Payson Road]. All rights reserved. Revised: November 04, 2005.