Once there was an orchid and a bee. The orchid was a beautiful flower, tall, strong and fragrant and she was admired by all other orchids in the meadow for her beauty and aroma. And all of the bees which swarmed around her wanted to enjoy her scent and taste her pollen. But there was only one bee which the orchid fancied. She adored his masculine, broad wings and the gentle buzz with which he whispered sweet words to her. And she would only allow this one bee to land on her petals, suckle her nectar and enjoy her fruits.
And so, day after day, the bee would come and the orchid would give of herself to the bee, and both would enjoy bliss.
Until one day, the bee did not come, and the orchid was surprised.
On the second day the bee did not come, and the orchid was curious.
On the third day the bee did not come, and the orchid was worried.
And on the fourth day the bee did not come, and the orchid was angry
On the fifth day a spring rain misted the field with fresh dew and a crystal droplet of water settled on the orchid’s petal. Like glass, the droplet formed a lens through which the orchid could see far into the distance. At first she did not care for the droplet, but then she peered through it and there, far on a distant meadow, she saw her bee, the only bee she had ever truly loved, selfishly gathering pollen from another orchid. Her heart was broken. Her petals wilted. She could only cry into the night with sorrow such as has never been witnessed.
And on the next day she thought of revenge – if she could only punish the unfaithful bee for his heartless crime. Then she cried and the night came and mellowed her thoughts.
On the third day she thought of spoiling her petals – surely, he would come back if he saw how much sorrow he has caused her. He didn’t. Then she cried and the night came and mellowed her thoughts.
On the fourth day she thought of giving herself to all of the other bees who were now swarming about her – surely he would be jealous and would come back. He didn’t. Then she cried and the night came and mellowed her thoughts.
On the fifth day a spring rain misted the field with fresh dew and a crystal droplet of water settled on her petal. Like glass, the droplet formed a reflective lens in which the orchid could see herself. And she saw how beautiful she was, how proud was her form, and how fragrant was her bouquet.
Her petals hardened, her stem confidently erect, as her flower pointed straight to the sky with the joy of a new beginning.
Copyright © 2015 by Norbert Sluzewski. All Rights Reserved.