A ladybird: how is it possible to love something so small so much? | Helen Sullivan

Ladybirds know how good they look, and they don’t keep it to themselves

The ladybird gets the first part of its name from Our Lady, The Lady, Mary. Its spots – seven, if you are in Europe – symbolise Mary’s seven sorrows, its red shell the cloak she wears sometimes, when she is feeling passionate or loving, or devoted to her son, or, when she’s in a particularly generous mood, devoted to all of humanity.

Ladybirds come from the coccinellid family of beetles, which comes from the Latin for scarlet. They were named by Pierre André Latreille, a priest who had grown up an orphan and was thrown into a dungeon during the French Revolution. He was released because he recognised a rare species of beetle. A physician had come to inspect the prisoners, and found Latreille preoccupied by an insect. The story is about to sound like a bible passage written by AI. The insect was very rare, Latreille told the physician. It was a “red-necked bacon beetle”. The physician took the beetle to a local physician, 15 years old, who, impressed, used his connections to get Latreille released from prison. Within a month, every other inmate was dead from “a notorious killing frenzy”. (As they say: God loves beetles.)