I Am a Worm … Or Am I?: A Story about Change

By Jean Watts

“I am the true vine, and My Father is the vinedresser. …As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in Me. I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in Me, and I in him, bears much fruit; for without Me you can do nothing.” John 15:1, 4-5 NKJV

Like the unhappy caterpillar in I AM A WORM …Or Am I? we often try to change ourselves but fail. We can become downtrodden when we don’t see lasting results. It is only when we turn to God and put our trust in Him, that we experience true change. Follow along in this delightful allegory as the caterpillar meets a butterfly who offers hope for a new life. Drawn to a mysterious vineyard, he learns the challenging lessons of faith. The vinedresser tends the branches in this special vineyard and brings about glorious change, for an abundant harvest!

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Dec 9, 2021
• ISBN: 9781664250659

Jean Watts

Jean Watts continues her allegory on spiritual growth and change in the Vinedresser’s garden, where love grows and never fails!

Book preview

I Am a Worm …

Or Am I?

A Story about Change

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JEAN WATTS

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Copyright © 2021 Jean Watts.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.westbowpress.com

844-714-3454

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Scripture taken from the New King James Version of the Bible

ISBN: 978-1-6642-5066-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6642-5067-3 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6642-5065-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021923750

WestBow Press rev. date: 12/9/2021

Contents

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

To, and in thanksgiving for,

my three wonderful children.

"…all things come from You,

And of Your own have we given You".

—1 Chronicles 29:14 NKJV

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Chapter 1

There once was a caterpillar who thought he was just a worm. Everybody told him that he was a worm. This was certainly confirmed each time he looked at his reflection in a droplet of water. The caterpillar wasn’t sure where he’d come from; he didn’t seem to have any family. He was quite alone. There was no one, really, that he could even call a friend. The caterpillar wasn’t very pleased with himself. Other creatures could leap about or scurry around at great speeds, leaving him slowly crawling behind.

Oh, the caterpillar could climb, and he was secretly rather proud of that fact. He had noticed that not every creature around him could climb and reach the tender young leaves that he was able to enjoy. Food was always plentiful for the caterpillar since the early warmth of spring had succeeded in coaxing life to venture from its winter hiding places and the woods were bursting forth with new green growth. It made him blush to think about it, but he did realize that he often puffed out his chest as he looked down on the other creatures scurrying around for a morsel of food while he leisurely munched on an abundant meal. But, alas, those moments were short-lived, for in the midst of his pride, a small bird would land on a nearby branch and twitter the caterpillar to shame as it raised its wings to fly off to even higher branches still. The caterpillar knew that if he climbed until well past dark, he wouldn’t be able to climb as high as it took that bird two seconds to reach, and once again, he would feel like the low creature that he knew he was—a mere worm.

The caterpillar had grown very weary of everyone’s scurrying past as he crawled and scooted about, munching on this and that. Even the fact that he could climb and reach the tender young leaves hadn’t eased his feelings of disgust at being such a slow, low creature. No one wanted to spend any time with the caterpillar because it took him such a long time to do everything. Some of the quick-moving creatures had once asked the caterpillar to join them as they played games or went on excursions there in the woods, but when they discovered that he could only manage to slowly scoot and crawl, they soon stopped inviting him.

One misty spring morning, the caterpillar was slowly scooting along on the damp ground, heading nowhere in particular. The air was saturated with the dank smell of wet leaves. Moist brown leaves that had been left over from the thick ground cover of fall were now clumped in piles and under bushes, where they had been lifted up and deposited by the wind. Tender new grass had begun to spring up to cover the barren patches where the leaves had rested through much of winter. Scattered here and there were tiny sprouts of what promised to be wildflowers, once the sun had warmed the air for longer and longer stretches of time. Their vibrant colors would soon gleam like jewels when the sunlight managed to dapple through the thick cover of branches, spotlighting each delightful surprise. The caterpillar slowly inched his way between the tender blades of dewy grass—alone, as usual. He was always alone these days, it seemed.

Through the mist ahead, the caterpillar spotted some crickets playing in a rotted-out tree stump. Scooting closer, he watched as they jumped around in a circle on the inside wall of the stump. I bet I could crawl along with those crickets, or they could leap over me as part of their game, he said to himself, excited at the thought of having some companions.

The caterpillar began to smile as he approached the group and was about to ask if he could play when two crickets turned their backs as if they hadn’t seen him. He heard them moan, Oh no, here comes Slowpoke. If he plays, we can’t hop around as fast. He’ll get in our way.

The others in the group looked up and then quickly turned away as the caterpillar heard them groan, Oh no, not Scoot-Along!

The caterpillar’s smile quickly disappeared as he gulped back tears and tried to act as if he were just passing by. He scooted away with his head hanging low. Those crickets looked like they were having so much fun. Why, oh why, did he have to be so slow? Surely there must be something that he could do to be able to move faster. Suddenly, he had an idea. I must not be eating the right type of food to have the energy that I need, and my muscles must not be strong enough for me to move quickly!

This cheered the caterpillar somewhat since there did seem to be something that he could do after all. He grew more and more excited as he concluded that the right diet and proper exercise were all that he needed to grow strong and fast. He began to think about what the quick creatures ate. Ants seemed very strong, as they could carry objects that appeared to weigh as much or more than they did, and they could move about very quickly. He wasn’t sure what ants ate, but once he had seen some ants with wings eating wood from a fallen tree.

Excited at the thought of being able to move about more quickly, the caterpillar began to search for some small pieces of wood. Looking around, he spotted some chips of wood lying next to a fallen tree branch. He scooted over to them, tingling with anticipation. Hmm, they don’t look very appetizing, he mumbled. He took a deep breath and decided to give one a try. Munching down on a tiny chip, the caterpillar found that he couldn’t tear a small piece from it the way that he could from leaves. He tried putting the whole piece in his mouth, but he couldn’t do a thing with it but spit it back out. "Yuck … pllttt! he sputtered. I can’t eat that! He looked around for a smaller piece but couldn’t find one any tinier than the chip he had tried. I’ll try some wood shavings, like the sawdust in the tree stump where the crickets were playing. Surely that will be easier to eat. I’ll go over there and try some tomorrow when those crickets aren’t there."

Early the next morning as the sun was creeping above the trees, the caterpillar set out on his mission. As he approached the tree stump, he could see that there were some worms slithering in the dirt near the gnarled roots. He had never understood other worms’ apparent delight in slithering around in dirt. The caterpillar didn’t at all like to get dirty. Nonchalantly, the caterpillar scooted past the worms and onto the spongy sawdust next to the stump. When he decided they weren’t watching, he discretely scooped up a mouthful of sawdust and tightly closed his lips. He scooted behind the stump so that the worms couldn’t see him. As he began trying to munch up and down and around and around, his cheeks were packed so full and the sawdust was so dry that it caused him to cough—and out came most of it. Forcing himself to swallow what had been moistened and remained in his mouth, he almost choked. "Grumph … ugh … how terrible!" he gasped.

Knowing that he could not manage to eat any more sawdust right then, he headed back home. Maybe I’ll try again later and not take such a big mouthful, he told himself. However, by the time the caterpillar arrived home, he had a tremendous stomachache. He had planned to do some exercises when he got home, but now, even the thought of moving made him moan and groan in pain. All that he was able do was lie around for the rest of the day. As he lay there, he grew more disgusted than ever. In the midst of his misery, the caterpillar decided that he would not try to keep up with the quick creatures after all. No, he would stick to his own kind—other slow creatures.

The other worms and wormlike creatures living there in the woods didn’t look quite like the caterpillar. He was green, and the other worms were either brownish pink or a deep red, and he had noticed that he was quite a bit fatter than most of them. Also, he had legs, and the others didn’t. He supposed that was the reason he could climb and they couldn’t. The other worms actually spent most of their time underground, and he had found that they weren’t at all interested in the same things as he, but they were slow creatures.

He remembered the group of worms that lived near the tree stump in the soft, dark earth. Thinking that maybe they could begin to play together and become friends, the caterpillar decided to begin speaking to these worms whenever he passed by. Soon after he began to have conversations with these worms, some of them did invite the caterpillar down into their home. The caterpillar was thrilled to have been invited, but to his dismay, he found that he had great difficulty breathing as he tried to burrow into the earth behind them. He had to back out as soon as his head was covered with dirt.