the birds and the bees and a boy

[Eternum 1]

A magnifying glass in a boy's hand is a portal to dimensions that exist parallel to the human world of plastic and concrete. It avails that other portal to the soul, the human eye, a glimpse into marvels upon which beauty is defined and dreams fulfilled.

I learned this one day while searching for a blossom to put in a empty woman's powder box, a gift to thank my sixth grade teacher, Miss Rogers for mentoring me through the year of my parents divorce.

The flower I reached for had a little honeybee lying prone from exhaustion at the heart of the bloom. She langorously lay there lapping at the flower's nectar and didn't make a move to escape when my clumsy hand sent warning vibrations through the petals.

I moved away not from fear of a sting but an intuitive feeling that disturbing this tiny creature for my own lust to impress was impolite and for some reason it brought the memory of great grandmother's funeral to my adolescent mind.

There had been flowers there too and flowers always attract bees which fascinate little boys while annoying adults.

I decided to wait before picking this bloom for Miss Rogers and went inside to dress for my elementary school 'graduation'. A hour or so later, I went back into the garden, sure that the little bee had left by then. At first, I could not see her in the flower and I assumed she had recovered her strength and flown back to her family. I brought the magnifying glass from my pocket and examined the flower more closely and there nestled in the side was the bee, now quite lifeless.

I made a decision and placed the bee's body in the box along-side the bloom I had chosen for Miss Rogers.

As each student brought a parting gift to our teacher, I thought of my reasons for this gift and prepared my explanation.

As my turn came, I presented my gift along with this note:

Dear Miss Rogers,

Thank you for being my teacher and helping me learn to write about my feelings. I tried to find the prettiest flower in my mamas garden and the prettiest had a bee in it. You taught us that bees make flowers grow and I knew that the bee in this box died while making a flower for you. I just wanted you to know that the same love the bee had for this flower is like the love I have for you.

Miss Rogers hugged me fiercely and I can still smell her perfume to this day and smile at the disturbing new feelings I had in her womanly embrace.

My next year in junior high opened a whole new world of appreciation for the opposite sex and today I understand that little bee and should I happen to gasp my last breath with my tongue lapping at the nectar of my desire; I'm sure it will be with the empathy and appreciation of all bees and all human hearts who share the desire for and love of beauty.

[heartstrong]

that was such a very nice little story. it made me smile for the first time today.

[Eternum 1]

Thank you Heartstrong. It's very satisfying to know you enjoyed and it brought a smile.

[Eternum 1]

[gordy]

that is a very moving story, your talent for writing was even revealed back then in your wonderfully worded note