A small a small Worm worm walked a day in direction to the Sun. A Chapulin was very close to the road. Where are you going?, asked him: while walking, the Caterpillar replied: I had a dream last night, I dreamed I looked across the Valley from the tip of the great mountain. I liked what I saw in my dream and I decided to do it. Surprised, el Chapulin said while his friend moved away: you must be crazy! How can you reach that place? You, a simple Caterpillar! A stone will be a mountain, a small puddle a sea, and any trunk an impassable barrier. But the worm was already far away and did not hear it. His tiny feet left no move.

Does suddenly heard the voice of a beetle: to where you are going with so much effort?. Already sweating the worm, he said panting: I had a dream and wish to make it, go up that mountain and from there behold throughout our world. The beetle could not bear the laughter, he burst into laughter and then said: neither myself, with big legs, try a very ambitious undertaking. He stayed in the lying ground of laughter while Caterpillar continued on his way, having already advanced a few centimeters. Similarly, the spider, Mole, frog and flower advised our friend to desist. Not you will manage it ever!, they said, but inside had a momentum that forced him to continue. Already exhausted, limply and nearly died, he decided to stop to rest and build a place where to spend the night with her last effort.

I’ll be better, it was the last thing said, and died. All the animals of the Valley for days were looking at their remains. There was the craziest town animal. He had built his tomb with a monument to the folly. There was a hard refuge, worthy of one who died for wanting to realize an unrealizable dream. A morning in which the Sun was shining in a special way, all the animals gathered around what they had become in a warning for the daring. Suddenly they were amazed. That hard shell began to break, and with astonishment, they saw a few eyes and an antenna that could not be the Caterpillar who believed dead. Little by little, as to give them time to replace the impact, they were leaving the beautiful Rainbow that impressive wings be that they had before them: a butterfly. There was nothing to say, everyone knew what I would do: I would go flying up the great mountain and would be a dream; the dream by which he had lived, that had died and who had returned to live. All had been wrong. God has created us to realize a dream, we live by, we try to reach it, we put life on it, and if we account that we cannot, perhaps we need to make a stop along the way and experiencing a radical change in our lives. And then, with another appearance, with other possibilities and with the grace of God, we will succeed. Is looking for the impossible as the men were found and reached as possible, and those who were limited to what It was visibly possible, they never took a step.

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