That budding entomologist of my younger years is obviously far from gone; it was awakened the other day from its dormant phase when I walked onto the front porch early one morning to find a lethargic nocturnal moth with a large chip in her wing, placating herself on the walk. Instantly I ran back in to find Donovan, as I saw it as my chance to begin to share the beauty of God’s creation with him through this beautiful creature. In his mismatched pajamas and bare feet, he followed me to the porch to determine what this thing was that his excited mommy was referring to. And then he saw it. With all the freedom of Adam in the Garden of Eden, Donovan proclaimed the creature’s name for all to hear: “A MOPFH!” He was even more delighted when mommy gingerly placed it in her hand and carried the feathery creature inside. Sadly nature rarely shows itself to my inquisitive toddler in the city limits, so I was exuberant at this opportunity. Inside, we began our search for the mophf house, and found the perfect clear container leftover from the Christmas ornaments. We filled the mophf house with all of the mophf luxuries, leaves and sticks, and an upside down Gerber lid filled with sugar water. And then we placed our lovely mopfh in the container & covered the top with netting and a rubber band. And on the 7th minute we rested….and watched. Donovan just stared in sheer absorbed wonder, and did so throughout the day. Every so often he would drop whatever he was doing and run to go “Check my mopfh!” And there she was, resting her wings and looking pretty for her audience. And then we went to bed that night, telling the mopfh “ni-night mophf!.” Upon awakening we had quite a shock; Donovan had barely opened his eyes before he ran to greet his mopfh, but upon arrival his face fell….our secure mopfh house had been under attack that night it seemed, for it was tipped and open, contents strewn about. Daddy & Mommy just said…. “ZACK!” And the cat got some very evil looks from us all. But the cat didn’t care, because he was focused on something behind the shelf- and was swishing his tail in eager evil-ness. Donovan rushed forward, and we were close at hand to discover our magnificent mopfh in all her chipped wing glory safe and sound behind the shelf. We decided that mercy trumped education at this point, and so it was that Donovan learned about the freedom that God’s beautiful creatures deserved, as he waved goodbye to his mophf as we placed her in the ficus tree in the front yard. I stepped out later that day, half expecting our mophf to still be lounging loyally in the tree, but no, she must have gained her strength and taken to the sky where she belonged. But her brief stay as a guest in our home certainly served its purpose, for now Donovan parades outside with newfound wonder for the creature recently discovered in the form of a graceful mophf.