The Butterfly Forest

It was set to be another stiflingly hot, muggy day in Dong Ha as we headed to the Danaan Perry Landmine Education Center (LEC for short). The van bumped down a rutted, red-dirt road and turned into a tree-lined driveway. Another few hundred yards and the air became cooler, sweeter, greener... and there we were.

We met with landmine victims that day, including Hoa, whose story and photo appeared in an earlier entry. We also had the chance to plant trees.

A forested park is no small thing in Quang Tri Province -- especially a safe forested park. The LEC sits on acres of land cleared of UXO. Past PeaceTrees travelers have planted thousands of trees, the oldest ones now easily ten times our height. Children come here from around the province for a weekend of fun and landmine education. In May the park will be filled with 400-500 young campers competing in artwork contests, looking at wooden models of dangerous ordnance, talking with landmine victims, playing games. Like a safe forest, a camping trip is no small thing in Quang Tri Province. It will be a great weekend for the kids.

Most of the trees in the park are acacias, planted when they were waist-high saplings. We planted taller trees that day, hardwoods. I liked the sense of permanence in their strong trunks and smooth bark. We planted on a slope that dipped down to a muddy stream where we filled our watering cans. Working alongside our Vietnamese PeaceTrees partners we added seventy trees to the forest, including several planted in remembrance of friends and family members.

For me, our tree-planting both honored the past and celebrated the future. As the trees grow, their roots will keep them grounded and their branches will stretch toward the sun. I like to think my own growth in Vietnam has been much the same.

Call it coincidence, but on my prior trips small yellow butterflies have made some uncanny cameo appearances. They have consistently shown up at moments of significance or remembrance. Even on this trip, a yellow butterfly flew right alongside my window for several minutes as our plane taxied to the terminal at Hue/PhuBai airport, my personal welcoming committee. So it seemed fitting that as we planted and dedicated new trees we were kept company by dozens of butterflies -- not just yellow ones this time, but orange, iridescent blue, black, striped, spotted... like winged works of art. It felt as though what had once symbolized remembrance now represented a joyful future. One of our travelers christened the place "the Butterfly Forest," and the name stuck. I hope our little grove will welcome Vietnamese children for many generations to come.

When I got back to the hotel that night, Hoa -- the landmine survivor -- had sent me an email. It said simply, "Dear Miss Sue: Today I am very happy."

Dear Hoa: Today, so am I.