Tracey's Lesson

This is a piece I wrote perhaps 20 years ago but I remember it as if it were yesterday.  I thought I would dust it off and see how it works in 2011.  Hope you enjoy it.  

It was a beautiful Fall day. The kind here in Maine that are bittersweet with both a snap in the air that warns of the impending winter and a sunny sweetness all its own. Autumn is spectacular in New England; the air is crystal clear, the sky is a vivid palette of blue, and the pungent odor of burning leaves tickles the nose.

For me, in that Fall of 1975, it was also a busy time. lmitating the squirrels who were busy laying up winter stores of food, I was working to preserve the bounty at hand. lt had been a good harvest year; our vegetable garden had outdone itself, and now I was turning my attention to our huge apple tree in the back yard.

We were fortunate to live in an 1850's vintage cape in this beautiful Maine village. We loved this old unique home and its surrounding community, and we appreciated its rich heritage. lt was a simple life that my husband Paul and I lived here with our two young daughters, Susan, age 5, and Tracey, age 3. And we were grateful to an unknown forefather who had lovingly cared for this house and who had planted the now magnificent apple tree.

So, on this crisp, clear Fall morning, I attended to the task at hand. The old tree was groaning under its weight of red, juicy apples, and I knew I had a large job ahead of me. The girls and I would pick a boxful, and as I would sit on the backsteps and peel them, they would ride their tricycles around the yard and play. After I sugared the apples and deposited them in the freezer, we would start the process all over again.

It was a satisfying morning, and I was caught up in the beauty of the day watching my little daughters with curly blond hair busy at play. There was also great enjoyment in the knowfedge thatwe'd be enjoying pies and applesauce from our freezer all winter long. Occasionally, the girls would join me on the steps and munch on slices of fresh peeled apple. These were sweet moments as they'd interrupt their laughter and play and snuggle with me on the steps while they devoured my last ten minutes worth of peeling. We'd talk about important things like where worms go in the winter and they'd make bracelets from the curly lengths of apple peels and try to balance them on their noses.

However, the sweet aroma of the apples also drew an unwelcome visitor - one who was also trying to prepare for winter. As we sat there, me - peeling and coring, they eating and chatting, a persistent honeybee decided to join us. At first, I tried to ignore him, hoping that he was only passing through, but it soon became apparent that he meant business. I sat there wide eyed with alarm with hands sticky from my work, as he buzzed us trying to find a spot to land. As I vainly waved my arms around trying to discourage him - I considered my options, how should I handle this without frightening the girls?  Should we stay and fight it out or should we abandon the effort and run?

In those few moments, the bee narrowed his attention to Tracey who appeared quite unconcerned with all of this. When I shouted at her to run off, she calmly turned to me and quietly said "Daddy says if a bee bothers you, just blow on him and he'll go away". And as it to prove her right at that moment the bee touched down on her pudgy little hand, and as she gently blew him away he was gone.

How important was this lesson I learned from my three year old daughter that day and how much like God's ways the lesson was. I saw again the importance of gentleness. That day, Tracey reminded me that there are gentle ways to handle the annoying problems of life that buzz at us. How often l've needed to remember this.

Thank you, Lord, for the lesson you taught me that day through a three year old child and a honeybee.