If you think they are female and you are of a certain age, you might name them Patty, Maxene, and LaVerne after the Andrews Sisters singing group of the 1940s, or you might name them Phyllis, Chris, and Dottie after the McGuire Sisters singing group of the 1950s and 1960s. But they could be male (the butterflies I mean, not the Andrews Sisters or the McGuire Sisters), in which case you might name them Manny, Moe, and Jack after the guys who own 803 Pep Boys automotive supply stores with 7000 bays in 35 states and Puerto Rico, or you might name them Frank, Dean, and Sammy after the best-known members of the Rat Pack. And if you are of a certain age and/or frame of mind you may never have heard of the Andrews Sisters, the McGuire Sisters, the Pep Boys, or the Rat Pack and furthermore it has never occurred to you to care whether butterflies drawn on paper are female or male.
Whatever floats your boat.
Butterflies usually make everyone happy, but sometimes they make me sad when I think of I Never Saw Another Butterfly, a collection of works of art and poetry by Jewish children who lived in the German concentration camp Theresienstadt during World War II. The book is named after a line in a poem by Pavel Friedman, a young man who was sent to Theresienstadt and was later killed at Auschwitz.
You can read Pavel Friedman's poem "The Butterfly" here.
