Читать книгу Danny Bundy and the Search for the Butterfly - Gilbert M. Balderrama - Страница 8

Danny was eight years old and short for his age. His classmates teased him about his height, his red hair, and his freckles, but he didn’t pay attention. Danny was smart. He knew he would grow up taller than all of them one day, and his freckles would fade. All he had to do was look at his dad, Walter Bundy.

Danny’s dad was the town librarian, the tallest and handsomest man Danny knew. His hair was as red as Danny’s, but he had no freckles. And every night since before Danny could remember, Danny’s dad had brought home books to share. Danny’s dad would read to Danny in the evenings about exciting people and places all over the world. Most of all, Danny enjoyed the books with wonderful pictures of the places his dad read about. Danny dreamed of visiting those places one day.

Danny’s favorite book, though, was a big book about butterflies. The colors and patterns of the butterflies’ wings were amazing! More than anything, he wanted to see them up close, especially the Danaus plexippus: the monarch butterfly. The first time he saw a picture of a monarch butterfly, he had not been able to look away. He had cried so much when his dad closed the book for the evening that his dad had put the book under Danny’s pillow for the night. The next day, Danny had been so happy when his dad told him he would order another copy of the book for the library—the copy under his pillow was his!

Walter Bundy had smiled wide and said to his wife, “Who knows, Maggie? Bundy here may just be the world’s youngest lepidopterist.” Danny had been three years old.