Made My Day
Work is waiting.
Must arrive by eight.
Arms full of paperwork.
Grab that coffee. Need that perk.
Out the door. Forgot the car key!
Turning 'round, back I flee.
Running back I thought I saw
Something tiny near the door.
In the chilly morning air,
A Worker Bee lay lifeless there.
Just by chance, I saw her as I hurried on my way.
My hasty step stopped before her, just a hair’s breadth away.
Surely, on the doorstep the entire night she spent.
There she lay, deathly still, on the cold and grey cement.
Sighing, I looked at her and forgot about the hour.
How different the world would be without the bee’s mighty power.
So small and fragile in the scheme of things,
But many lives she carries with her tiny wings.
She feeds the Fruits and Flowers, who color and feed the earth.
Without her they would not survive, and nothing would give birth.
Each Spring Mother Nature brings all species of new life.
Without the bees, there would be nothing left but hunger and strife.
Without the Honey Bees,
There would be no cherry trees.
There would be no oranges, apples or almond trees.
Quite simply, the entire world needs the bees.
Gently, I set down the load I carried.
My rushing mind no longer harried.
My thoughts transformed as I began to realize,
A meaningful life is not measured just by size.
I had a job that needed me, but the entire world did not depend on me.
As it absolutely does the little Worker Bee.
If I could save her precious life meant being late,
Then my job could surely wait.
In her short life of six weeks or so,
It is she that makes everything grow.
Each day she works very hard, flying very far.
As do all Female Worker Bees, until the day they can fly no more.
She flies about in search of two key ingredients.
One is Nectar. One is Pollen. Both are full of nutrients.
With the Flowers and Trees she has a partnership.
It’s what we call a symbiotic relationship.
The Flowers and Trees gladly let her take their Nectar to her hive.
In return, she carries their Pollen to other growing things, which keeps them all alive.
Although she is just a half an inch, she can carry her total weight with her fragile wings.
A feat not possible with advanced, manmade flying things.
And she is a warrior, the defender of her hive.
She alone has a stinger that when used she gives her life.
If an intruder should disturb her hive,
She will attack knowing she will die.
The nectar she carries in her “Honey Stomach.”
When hungry, she transfers it to her “Food Stomach.”
Most of the Nectar she delivers to the hive.
She gives it to her sisters, the bees that work inside.
This is where the golden treasure is made.
“Honey” is its proper name.
The bees chew the nectar, passing it from bee to bee, you see.
This reduces the moisture turning the nectar into sweet Honey.
Honey is the source of life for the bees.
It is what their babies need.
All babies need a formula of milk.
The bee’s milk looks like Golden Silk.
I looked about to see what would suffice
To pick her up and save her life.
A broad leaf I spied, and gently slid it under her side.
She didn’t move, and I thought she had surely died.
Not giving up, I put her in the morning sunlight,
Hoping the warmth would bring her back to life.
I watched as if bewitched.
Finally, one antenna twitched!
She shook her body in the warm light,
Shaking off the chill of the cold night.
She spread and stretched her wings,
Preparing for her list of daily things.
There is much for her to do, she knew instinctively.
No lounging around lazily.
Her tasks she would never compromise.
This might mean her family would not survive.
And so she lifted off and took flight.
I shaded my eyes from the Sun’s Light.
And as I watched her fly away,
I prayed she’d have a fruitful day.
And, yes, I arrived at work a bit late.
And, yes, my boss had something to say.
But I would do it all again on any given day.
Why, you ask?
Because it made my day!