Mayans in Guatemala

Tzutujil
Mayans in Guatemala speak of simultaneous Twin Realities: the world of
dreams and the world of work. These worlds are likened to the opposing
wings of a Butterfly: the dream world is one wing, and the awake world
is the other. They believe the wings must connect at the Heart for the
Butterfly to fly and live. Real life occurs because of the interaction
of the wings. The Life is the Butterfly's Heart. Life, like the
Butterfly's Heart, is kept alive by the two opposing, mirroring twinlike
wings.
The Shoshone "Ladies Fancy Shawl Dance" Butterfly Legend

Many,
many years ago when the Earth was still quite new, there was a
beautiful butterfly who lost her mate in battle. To show her grief, she
took off her beautiful wings and wrapped herself in a drab cocoon. In
her sadness, she could not eat and she could not sleep and her relatives
kept coming to her lodge to see if she was okay.
Of course she
wasn't, but she didn't want to be a burden on her people so she packed
up her wings and her medicine bundle and took off on a long journey. She
wandered about for many days and months, until finally she had gone all
around the world.
On her journey she kept her eyes downcast and
stepped on each stone she came to as she crossed fields and creeks and
streams. Finally, one day as she was looking down, she happened to
notice the stone beneath her feet, and it was so beautiful that it
healed her sorrow.
She then cast aside her cocoon, shook the dust
from her wings, and donned them once more. She was so happy she began to
dance to give thanks for another chance to begin her life anew. Then
she went home and told The People about her long journey and how it had
healed her.
To this day,The People dance this dance as an
expression of renewal, and to give thanks for new seasons, new life, and
new beginnings.
The shawl in the Fancy Shawl Dance represents the
butterfly's wings, the fancy steps and twirls represent the butterfly's
style of flight. This is another reason you will sometimes hear the
Fancy Shawl Competition Dance referred to as " the butterfly dance."
Mexico

According
to people of certain areas of Mexico, Monarch butterflies carry the
spirits of dead ancestors to visit. They arrive each year on (or near)
the Day of the Dead (November 2), to visit and to take the souls of the
newly-departed away with them.
Ireland

In
certain areas of Ireland, people believe a white butterfly or moth is a
soul on its way to paradise. If the wings are spotted, the soul must
pay for its sins in purgatory but a pure soul will be all white.

How The Butterflies Came To Be

Now,
one day after Earth-Maker shaped the world, Iioi, our Elder Brother was
sitting and watching the children play. He saw the joy and the
youthfulness they displayed. He saw the beauty of their surroundings,
and the fresh fragrance of the trees and the flowers. He heard the happy
songs of the birds, and saw the blue of the sky. He saw the women as
they ground cornmeal. He saw their beauty, and the sunlight as it shone
from their hair. These were wonderful things.
But then Elder
Brother realized that all of these things would change. He knew that
these children would all grow old and weaken and die. The beautiful
women would someday grow fat and ugly, and their beautiful black hair
would turn gray. The leaves would turn brown and fall from the trees,
and the beautiful flowers that smelled so fresh would fade. The days
would grow short and the nights would be cold. Elder Brother's heart
grew sad and troubled.
As Elder Brother watched the women grind
cornmeal, the wind made some fallen yellow leaves dance in the sunlight.
He decided to do something which would capture some of these wonderful
things which He saw. He decided that He must make something that
everyone could enjoy, that would lift their hearts and spirits. So, He
took out His bag of Creation and began to gather some things together.
He
took some blue from the sky, and some whiteness from the cornmeal. He
gathered some spots of sunlight, and the blackness of a beautiful
woman's hair. He took the yellow of the falling leaves, and the green of
the pine needles. He gathered the red, the purple, and the orange from
the flowers. As He gathered these things, He put them into His bag. And,
last, He put the songs of the song birds in the bag.
When He had
finished gathering these things together, He called the children
together. He told them to open the bag and there would be a surprise for
them. So they opened the bag, and out flew hundreds of beautiful
Butterflies! They were red and gold and black and yellow, blue and green
and white. They looked liked flowers, dancing in the wind. They flew
all around the gleeful children, and lit on their heads. The hearts of
the children and the adults soared. Never before had they seen such
wonderful, happy things. They began to sing their songs as they flew.
But
then song bird lit on Iitoi's shoulder and asked Him. He said, "It is
not right to give our songs to these pretty things! You told us when you
made us that each bird would have his own song. These pretty things
have all of the colors of the rainbow already. Must they take our songs,
too?"
Elder Brother said, "You are right. I made one song for
each bird, and I must not give them away to any other." So butterflies
were made silent, and they are still silent to this day. But their
beauty brightens the day of all People, and brings out songs from their
hearts.
And that is how Elder Brother meant it to be.
Papago Tribe
  The Whitebutterfly

An
old man named Takahama lived in a little house behind the cemetery of
the temple of Sozanji. He was extremely amiable and generally liked by
his neighbors, though most of them considered him to be a little mad.
His madness, it would appear, entirely rested upon the fact that he had
never married or evinced desire for intimate companionship with women.
One
summer day he became very ill, so ill, in fact, that he sent for his
sister-in-law and her son. They both came and did all they could to
bring comfort during his last hours. While they watched, Takahama fell
asleep; but he had no sooner done so than a large white butterfly flew
into the room and rested on the old man's pillow. The young man tried to
drive it away with a fan; but it came back three times, as if loath to
leave the sufferer.
At last Takahama's nephew chased it out into
the garden, through the gate, and into the cemetery beyond, where it
lingered over a woman's tomb, and then mysteriously disappeared. On
examining the tomb the young man found the name "Akiko" written upon it,
together with a description narrating how Akiko died when she was
eighteen. Though the tomb was covered with moss and must have been
erected fifty years previously, the boy saw that it was surrounded with
flowers, and that the little water tank had been recently filled.