The Bee and the Balcony

Leila was afraid of bees: they buzz, and it seems they're about to sting. One day a bee flew onto her balcony and began circling the geraniums.

Leila was drawing at the little table. When she heard the buzzing, she jumped up, waved her arms and hid behind the curtain.

"Grandma! A bee! Make it go away!"

Grandmother came out onto the balcony, drying her hands on a towel, and calmly looked at the bee.

"She isn't after you," said Grandmother. "She's collecting pollen. Look, she doesn't care about you one bit. Just don't wave your arms. That frightens her, the same way she frightens you."

"She's scared?" Leila was surprised.

"Of course. To her you're as big as a mountain. A bee only stings when she's frightened and has to defend herself."

Leila peeped out from behind the curtain. The bee was quite small, stripy, with a fuzzy back. She crawled right into the middle of a flower, bustled about in there and took off again. On her back legs hung two yellow lumps, like little trousers.

"What's that on her legs?" Leila whispered.

"That's pollen," Grandmother answered. "The bee carries it home to her hive. And she also carries pollen from flower to flower. That's how flowers turn into apples, cherries, cucumbers and watermelons. Without bees there would be almost nothing sweet."

"Not even watermelons?" Leila's mouth fell open.

"Not even watermelons."

The bee filled her pollen trousers, made a circle over the balcony and flew away. Leila came out from behind the curtain. Her heart was still thumping, but not so loudly now.

"Grandma, where do bees find flowers in the city?" she asked. "It's all buildings and pavements here."

Grandmother thought about it. "That's a good question. There aren't many flowers in the city. Bees have to fly a long way to find food."

And then Leila had an idea. She and Grandmother went to the market and bought lavender, clover seeds and one little sunflower in a pot. At home they planted everything in long boxes on the balcony. Leila poured in the soil herself, watered the plants and checked every day for buds.

Soon the balcony burst into bloom. The lavender smelled so sweet it made your head spin, the clover was covered with little pink balls, and the sunflower turned its yellow face to the sun. And the bees came. First one, then another. And then a fat, fuzzy bumblebee that hummed like a tiny aeroplane. The balcony had become a real little canteen for insects.

Leila didn't wave her arms any more. When a bee flew past, she simply stood still and watched. And the bee went about its business, as if to say, I won't bother you, and you won't bother me.

One day Leila was sitting very close to the lavender, and a bee landed on a flower right next to her hand. Leila didn't move a muscle. She could see every golden hair on its back. It wasn't scary at all. It was amazing.

"You're so brave," said Grandmother.

"It's not bravery," Leila answered seriously. "I just know now that she's busy."

That evening Grandmother made tea and put a jar of honey on the table. Leila scooped up a spoonful, golden and slow, and thought about the little bees who had worked all day. Then she said goodnight to the lavender, to the sunflower and to all the bees already asleep in their hives.

Goodnight.