You Can't Save Them All

There was a bee. And a five year old.  

We were listening to Chris Colfer’s Land of Stories series on audiobook and making breakfast and I heard this buzzing sound.  

“What is that?” I asked. And the boys went outside to track down the noise. 

We quickly discovered it was a bee who had somehow trapped himself between the double screens on our windows (the windows all have double screens to help keep the mosquitos out.). I have no idea how he got between them because there didn’t seem to be any holes large enough for him to fit through.  

“We have to save it,” Chumbercules declared. Thus, our mission was born. 

I examined the screen and observed the bee. It was using its sweet little fuzzy bee face-claws (is that a thing? Face claws?) to try to bite its way to freedom. It was climbing back and forth through the little space that existed between the screens. I saw there was a small hole up near the top that I could enlarge to give the bee an escape route, so I grabbed the scissors and created the escape route. 

For the next twenty minutes, I applied gentle pressure to various parts of the screen, trying to guide the bee to freedom. The bee was so close to the exit, but didn’t go through. I’m not sure if the metal from the screen was too sharp or what. I enlarged the hole and tried again. 

“Why isn’t the bee climbing out?” Chumby asked. And I told him, sometimes you can do everything in your power to help someone or something, but it still doesn’t work. Sometimes, you have to recognize when to walk away. 

It was sad. And now there is a dead bee between the screens. Could I have completely removed once of the screens? Yes. Did I? No. Because I’m renting and when the five year old broke the window, it took me five weeks to get a new one and, that’s because I finally learned where I can buy window glass and I bought it myself. While we were waiting, all of the mosquitos in the world entered our house and bit us. And, with rainy season approaching, there are even more mosquitoes and I don’t want Dengue. And the kids don’t know what it is, but they don’t want it either.  

In related news, we live in Costa Rica now. 

So, there you go. I could have done more, but I didn’t because I think the life of myself and my children is more valuable than that of a bee. But I still love him. And if I ever figure out how to free him from the screen, I will give him a proper burial. And, if not, he will stay there as a warning to his friends. 

Rest in peace, bee. I wish you had made it out. I imagine it was terrible, working so hard, frantically, fruitlessly, searching for an escape, then giving up. It’s so sad.  

Pura vida.