The bumble bee sits in my hand
And look, he does not quiver
While sweet Olivia’s childish look
As though an animated book
Approaches a curious shiver.
But Grammy, if he stings me now
Won’t that really, really hurt me?
And make me really, really mad
(Her face is growing long and sad)
At every single humble bumble bee?
It’s hard to say, my little one
You’ll know when you are ready
Until that time, back up and wait
With trusting eyes and spaghetti gait
She moves back, slow and steady.
You see, my precious, bumble bees,
Not built for fright or flight,
Are here to bring us wonder and astound
And had they never taken on that daring chance at flight
They surely would have never left the ground.
I know one day with daring heart
In a scary grown-up land
You’ll feel the need to take that chance
And allow some bumble bee to dance
In the palm of your trusting hand.
The chances you take are included in life’s great plan.