In the mist-veiled valleys of ancient Miao lands,
a red maple stood alone.
From its bark, a cocoon emerged—
and from it, the Butterfly Mother was born.
She flew for nine days.
Wherever her wings touched, rivers began to flow.
Wherever her shadow passed, life awoke.
From twelve sacred eggs, she birthed gods, beasts, ancestors.
Including the first Miao woman, who would stitch her image into cloth—
not for beauty, but for remembrance.
That butterfly you wear?
It’s more than silk and thread.
It’s her wing.
It’s a relic of creation.
Wear it on a quiet day.
Let the mother of beginnings walk beside you.
Hand-stitched with ancient awe.
🌕 Handmade Blessings, Ancient Symbols.
