The Moth and the Bee

 

Once upon a time, there was a moth. Each day, she would fly around a little garden and drink nectar from all the beautiful flowers. It was her favorite thing to do.

One day, when she was flying about the garden, she saw a little bee who flew from flower to flower without getting any nectar. The bee landed on each flower, inspected it, shook his head, and then moved on to the next.

Curious, Moth flew up to the bee, who was now inspecting a violet flower. “Excuse me, Bee. I don’t mean to intrude, but why are you shaking your head at every flower you land on, and why haven’t you drunk any nectar?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Bee asked. “None of the flowers I have landed on are good. They are all ugly and bad.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

Bee pointed to each flower he had landed on in turn. “That flower over there has one petal missing. That flower has a missing leaf. That flower is tilting too far to the left. The other is not the right shade of blue; it’s much too dark. That foxglove has too many purple spots. And as for this one, which I am sitting on right now, this one has too many tendrils!” He shook his head. “None of these flowers are beautiful, as they should be.”

“But they are beautiful,” Moth said. She pointed to each flower in turn. “That flower does have a missing petal, but it has several others and it’s as yellow as the sun. That flower does have one leaf missing, but it’s as white as a cloud. That flower is leaning slightly to the left, but it’s as red as a rose. That blue flower is darker than most of its kind, but it’s unique, like a midnight sky. That foxglove does have lots of purple spots, but it goes so well with its cream color. And as for this one, which we are sitting on right now, it does have lots of tendrils, but it’s just like the rest of its kind, and it’s a wonderful shade of violet.

“Even if the flowers do not look exactly the way you might want them to, all of them are truly quite beautiful and I assure you they all have delicious nectar.”

Bee tsked. “Of course it would all taste good to you. You moths have crude tastebuds compared to us bees. Our senses are keener than yours. None of the flowers here are beautiful, and none of them are perfect, therefore their nectar isn’t perfect either. The nectar must be as terrible as the flowers are ugly.”

Moth sighed. “Suit yourself. Farewell, Bee.”

Bee nodded curtly. He left the garden, ever searching for the perfect flower all the day long.

Moth flew on to each and every flower within the garden, admiring their beauty and enjoying their nectar all the day long.