Hurting for Honey

Silvia belonged to a calm family. Her little brother was irritating as he was young, but he usually never was a problem. Their house was in a rural area with large fields and fresh green grass surrounding their house with numerous beehives in their backyard due to her parents being beekeepers, explaining their patience.

However, Silvia was born into the wrong family. She would wail if her ice cream melted or even if her pencil lead broke. One day when her little brother had eaten the rest of the honey she wanted to put in her tea, she slammed the jar down to the floor.

She exclaimed, “I can never have anything in this house! If I can’t have honey, I’ll go get it myself!”

Her parents shook their heads, telling her it’s too dangerous. She didn’t listen and stormed out of the house. She went to the small beehive in her backyard to collect some honeycomb. Silvia reached her hand in sloppily and grabbed a piece.

Bringing it up to her face, she wiped off some of the bees crawling around it. A mission well done, until she felt a sharp pain on her head. She yelped and put her hand to her forehead. A bee had stung her! The sting swelled up as she glanced back at the hive. There she saw the swarm, hurtling straight for her.

Her slippers flew off as she ran, her feet squished in the mud, and her white socks changed color. Screaming, she ran toward the small pond near her backyard and belly-flopped into it. She sank down with a groan.

After the bees left, her head bobbed up to the surface, and she trudged shamefully back home. As her mother assisted her in cleaning up, she mumbled to her, “I’ve told you so many times, don’t make a mountain out of a molehill.”

Her little brother chimed in, “Yeah, don’t make such a big deal out of everything!”

She nodded her head in agreement. As she did, a few dead bees fell out of her hair onto the ground.