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The Stinging Truth
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The Stinging Truth
“Ouch…” Sissy cried. “…that hurts.”
Candace examined the swelling mound on her young
daughter’s arm. “Hold still; the stinger is still in there.” She quickly plucked it from the wound and swabbed the red mark with a cotton ball and alcohol.
“I hate bees. Why do we need them anyway? I wish they would all move far, far away.” Sissy pouted, plopping down hard in the kitchen chair.
“Bees are crucial. Without them, there would not be very many flowers in our backyard.”
“How do they make flowers, Mommy? That’s just silly.” Sissy pictured the insects crafting flowers as she did in art class. “They don’t have glue and scissors.”
Candace laughed. “No, but they do have sticky feet. You see, for a new flower to be made, pollen, a fine powder with special ingredients, must be moved from one plant to another. When our friend the bee flies from here to there, he carries the pollen on his feet and puts it on a new plant. He also carries some of it back to the hive to feed the baby bees known as larvae.”
“We could just make plastic flowers and get rid of all the bees,” Sissy said, clearly not impressed by the work of the insects.
“Oh, but that is not all they can do,” Candace replied. “They have long tongues they use almost like a drinking straw. They find a big juicy flower and collect the nectar. Nectar is a lot like sugar water, and they need it for energy and also to make something sweet for all of us to eat.
Can you guess what that is?” read next
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