Dear Jenna,

Toward the end of summer, as we were still battling a major hornworm infestation, you insisted on saving every, single hornworm from a soapy death.  You walked each almost-victim far away from the tomato plants, commenting all the while on how "cute" the little guys were.

One hornworm was chosen to be your pet.  We placed him in an empty ice cream bucket filled with several inches of dirt and you carried the bucket around for several days, feeding your hornworm precious tomato leaves (man, that thing had a voracious appetite too!).  And then one day, he burrowed deep into the dirt, completely out of sight.  We immediately researched online and discovered that he was making a cocoon that wouldn't hatch until the springtime.  After looking at the bucket of dirt for several weeks in the bedroom, I eventually placed it in the basement, planning to check on him closer to spring.  Truthfully, I highly doubted he would hatch anyway. 

A few days ago, you mentioned checking on your little hornworm.  You excitedly found the bucket in the basement and opened the lid.  He HAD hatched at some point.  And he had died.

You were HEARTBROKEN.  You sobbed and sobbed in my arms and refused to look at the moth he had become (and I cried with you).

I'm telling you this, Jenna, because its a reminder that even as a little girl, you were a very compassionate human being.

We will try to save another hornworm this year and this time, have a better plan in place to ensure his survival. 

I love you and am SO proud of you,
Mama