Ihave moved four times in my life, and each time, my parents promised to celebrate my summer birthday before we left. This move was from South Pasadena to Burlingame, California. In South Pasadena, we lived in a charming olive-green house with a picket fence and a wooden swing on the porch. Just across the street was Garfield Park, where a man without teeth was always creating giant bubbles using pieces of string. On July 25, we held my seventh birthday party in that very park, surrounded by family and friends. I wore a paper crown and a flowy dress with a mix of reds, pinks, and purples. My mom bought me ladybugs in a plastic container to be released after we had cake. My friends and I peered into the container, trying to count the ladybugs, but we kept losing track, as some remained calm at the bottom while others impatiently ricocheted off the edges of the box, attempting to fly out. As children, we were also impatient, so I asked my mom if I could open the plastic container before we had cake. She replied hesitantly, “Yes, but be careful.” As she placed the container in my hands, exhilaration took control of me, and I struggled to stay calm. I carefully pried at the container, trying to slowly remove the lid. When it wouldn’t budge, my face became red, and I felt my friends’ restless eyes on me. Finally, I decided to yank it open. The ladybugs quickly flew in all directions; my friends tried to catch them, but they were too agile. I stared in amazement, captivated by their freedom.
An inexplicable smile appears when you make contact with a ladybug. It may be because the bright red shell pairs perfectly with its tiny black polka dots, or because of its delicateness — its wings so paper-thin, its legs moving with such careful precision. Or maybe we smile because we admire its petiteness, the quiet charm it carries. And then, there’s that moment when it spreads its wings, shifting from something to marvel at into a graceful, fluttering blur. Its fragility doesn’t make it weak; instead, it invites gentleness. You instinctively want to be careful, to cradle it, to keep it safe. Its presence softens us, even if it’s just for a moment.
The feeling of a ladybug landing on me sends tiny sensations through my arm and shivers up my spine. It forces me to relax and attempt to remain as still as possible. I try to make no sudden movements, as a mere breath can cause a ladybug to fly away. A ladybug landing on you is said to bring good luck, protection, and blessings. The number of spots on its back is thought to represent the number of months you will experience good luck (although it is unlikely the ladybug will stick around long enough for you to count the spots). I’m somewhat of a superstitious person. I raise my legs in the car when I pass over a train track, hold my breath when I pass a cemetery, touch the tree outside my best friend’s house when I enter and leave, and always knock on wood. So, yes, I do believe that a ladybug landing on me provides good luck, because why not?
When I was younger, my favorite book was “Ladybug Girl and Bumblebee Boy” by Jacky Davis. Ladybug Girl was fearless. She wore a red tutu, polka-dotted rain boots, and little red wings. Ladybug Girl ruled the playground with her imagination, turning ordinary days into wild adventures. What I loved most was how she made everyone want to join her elaborate game, as if her confidence was something you could catch just by being near her. I wish I could be like that: bold, unstoppable, and empowered by something as simple as a red outfit.
Maybe the unexplainable smile I get when I see a ladybug is because of nostalgia — the nostalgia of childhood birthdays and night swims in the lake at sleepaway camp, beach days with watermelon dripping onto the towels, and the refreshing feeling of swimming after a hot summer day. We smile because ladybugs are magical. A ladybug can snap you out of the sorrow felt when moving to an unfamiliar place where nothing is certain. A ladybug can make you feel delicate yet powerful. A ladybug has the ability to turn any scorching summer day, filled with nothingness and waiting, into a fantastic one, brimming with excitement and hopefulness. I’m eager for the summer warmth, when the ladybugs arrive and fill me with these emotions.
