this morning there was an inch worm on my kitchen floor. It crawled and fell, crawled and fell. I decided to leave him be and do his thing. as I was filling my bath tub I thought to myself... why? why would God make such a creature? he couldn't even crawl across the kitchen floor to save himself. what a sad little thing. I took my bath and accepted that God made imperfect things and that that was beautiful. Later, after painting for a while, I saw the inch worm again, still on the kitchen floor and not far from where he was the last time I saw him. He was not moving. how sad, I thought, he didn't make it. he just went circles and died. I reached down to pick him up and to my surprise his legs moved a little, tucking into his slim brown body. "He's still alive!" I thought. then I thought, " no wonder he was going in a circle, he wasn't made to walk on a kitchen floor. He needs to be outside in the dirt and the grass." I carried Him carefully down the stairs and laid Him on the softest darkest earth next to Joyce's vegetable beds. He didn't move. Then I thought maybe He is being still, playing dead for fear of me. I left Him there in the sun and thought to myself, " either He will rise and walk away, inch by inch... or a Robin will eat Him... both are good."