A Bee in the Water

The other day, I found a bee stuck in the pool. He had gotten himself --I call it a "he" because isn't that the gender of all drone worker bees? Toiling away for the queen, who sits in the nest giving commands and eating the flesh of other, would-be queens?-- into the center of the pool. I watched him work himself around in circles, never making much progress in any one direction, as he scrambled his black, stick-like legs in a frenzy. I stood there for awhile just watching adn contemplating the apparent metaphor of this bee in the water. "How much am I like that bee," I wondered, "And isnt this just a perfect illustration of the situation of all humans? Spinning around on the Earth." At times, I considered jumping in to save this bee, but never could bring myself to do it. After all, I had just gotten out and showered and dried off and.... So I decided to kick water at the bee with no really good reason for why I was doing so. I splashed the bee and thought I had seen him sink. I kicked again. He hadn't sunk so much as been knocked about by the tiny ripples the droplets made on impact. This poor bee. Then I noticed something different. He was then closer to the pool's edge than he had been before. I kicked again. He floated closer, surfing the waves as they were towards closer to the edge. I continued to kick water just behind this bee to push him to where I could reach in and scoop out this water-logged bee.

Before too long I had this bee near the edge. I stared at him kicking around for a while as I thought about what might happen if I scooped him out. Would he sting me? Would he bite? Would he just die? I wouldn't take the risk so I found an old t-shirt someone had left by the pool and scooped the bee. He crawled on the shirt a bit to make me think he had more spunk in him than he actually possessed and I flung the shirt to the ground so that he could recover in peace. But the shirt, unfolding in the light breeze, twisted and rotated about so that the bee hit the ground first and this wet, black t-shirt piled on top. Would this be a tragic turn to an otherwise happy ending? Would this bee live to see dry land again? I darted at the shirt to flip it and check the bee. At first, no movement. But then he walked an inch and stopped. I could see his wings move a slight gesture. He survived!

I gathered my things and prepared to go back to my apartment, stopping on the way out to look at this bee who really should be dead. He sat on this wet, black, leaking pile of cloth upon which he had just ridden to salvation as he dried off his wings and appeared to be licking his legs. I began to wonder what the long-term effects of the chlorine would be on him but then, he's just a bee. Probably wouldn't have lived that long anyway, right? So, I stood up and headed back to my apartment. Now I think back to the moment I saved a bee and wonder if I'd have been fortunate enough to have someone save me if I'd been in his position. Thoughts of Jesus' death on the cross came to mind and I realize that I have been. We all have been as fortunate; because the true metaphor of this story is that mankind is the bee in the water just waiting to die. But Jesus came to our aid (admittedly, he's saved us with more style and honor than I when I pondered just letting the little bugger die) and rescued us from alienation from God and certain death.

I thank God every day for what he has given me and seek to share knowledge of that gift with others.