In the holidays, Sarah, who loves living things of all kinds, decided to let a dozey bee crawl onto her foot. It gratefully climbed up onto her shoe, then proceeded to make it’s way past her ankle.
At this point, I was so glad she had socks on. I watched as Mr Bumble steadily made his way up her shin then turned around to travel up her calf.
She began to get a little tense but tried not to show it. It was time for some parental intervention.
I, as calmly as I could pretend, went inside the kitchen and grabbed a spatula. I then gently knocked it off and said, “Brave girl.” But in my mind I was shouting, “Phew!”
She said “It looks sick mummy, what do bees eat?”
We cut a purple flower from the tree that overhangs into our garden and she proceeded to coax the bee into a plastic ice cream tub, together with the flower.
Well, I don’t know if it over-ate, but in the morning, we discovered it had died.
Yes, she was extremely upset.
This morning as we were walking into school, Sarah pointed out the man in the big grass cutter who also marks white lines out on the football field.
She crumpled her face, “That man needs to take more care. He painted a Daddy Long Legs white last week. The poor thing. Mummy, stop laughing, it’s NOT funny! How would you like a paint roller going over you?”
For once, I was speechless (but still giggling)
I’m not sure if I am quoting this out of context, but it speaks to me all the same:
Don’t be cruel to any of these little ones. I promise you that their angels are always with my Father in Heaven. (Contemporary English Version)
Beware that you don’t look down on any of these little ones. For I tell you that in Heaven their angels are always in the presence of my Heavenly Father. (New Living Translation)