Kindness

Editor’s Note: When Ann and her husband returned to Sweden where they had lived on her husband’s family farm for 15 years, they met another kind person, Patricia, who told them this story and who had taken this picture. 

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We drove about an hour into the deep forests of Southern Sweden to visit our friend Christer. He is lot younger than we are. When we lived on our forest farm, we had called on him for advice and help with many things. He always responded immediately no matter what the problem was. We came to love him. He was so open-hearted and warm, kind and modest.

Now we live in Rochester, Minnesota, and have enjoyed corresponding with him via texts. This year we let him know we would be in his neck of the woods in May and of course he invited us to come to his farm.

Near his house we saw blooming fruit trees and immediately smelled their perfume when we got out of the rental car. We walked up to the door which was quickly opened by a young woman with a gentle smile. She introduced herself as Patricia and led us through the spacious farmhouse kitchen to a table set up for coffee for four.

Christer had a grin from ear to ear the whole time. I immediately thought, “This is a man in love.” Over the many years we knew Christer, he often had relationships with young women, but they never seemed quite right for him. This gal was different. She was shy with kind eyes, a good listener who joined in the conversation as she felt comfortable to do so.

As the dishes were being cleared, I stepped outside to smell the flowers. I saw a few very large bumblebees on the fruit trees. There are many different species of bumblebees and I wondered which one this was. I have an app on my phone that can often help me identify organisms if I can photograph them.

I tried several times, standing on tiptoe, to get a photo that showed the bee’s wings, the bands of black, orange and white on her back, and her face.

I was busy manipulating the phone to try to get a good photo when I heard her soft voice, “What are you doing?” Patricia had startled me and I laughed and said sheepishly, “I’m trying to get a photo of one of these big bumblebees.”

She brightened and said excitedly, “I’ve got lots of photos! Do you want to see?” She was already pulling out her phone, saying “I found this injured bee who couldn’t fly. So I took her in on my hand and made up some sugar syrup and found a tiny spoon and fed her.” She showed me darling photos. Patricia continued, “She drank and drank!” As she described this, she mimed how the bumblebee’s coiled proboscis uncoiled and dipped into the tiny pool of syrup on the tiny spoon.

“Yes, she drank and drank and drank, then stepped back and stood there and panted like a dog with his tongue out. She rested a minute and then stepped up and drank even more. I couldn’t help but laugh!”

Yes, the bumblebee recovered under Patricia’s gentle care and flew away. I said to her, “You must be the kindest person in the world, Patricia, to rescue a bumblebee.”

“Oh, she said modestly, “even a little bee deserves to have help when she needs it.”

When I had a moment with Christer, I said, “You found the right one, didn’t you?” His grin never stopped and his eyes told the whole story. “She really is the kindest girl.”