But the life of the flower answered, "If any but my bee comes, I shall not allow it to draw my nectar!"

"You can no longer prevent it," said the Urge, "for now you are in full bloom."

"If any but my bee comes," said the flower angrily, "I shall hold it tightly within my petals and crush and smother it!"

The Urge was chagrined at the unhappy little flower it had made too early and went in search of the very young bee it had made too late. But the bee was hiding with its wings over its head, remembering the taste of the nectar...and the flower waited.

Then the sun, who loved the flower, asked, "Would you, indeed, make good your terrible threat, flower?" And the flower nodded its head; but they both knew that a flower could spend all of its strength crushing a bee and the bee would not even notice it. And the sun smiled at the fierce silliness of it, and the flower folded its innermost petals over the nectar and withdrawing its scent, continued to wait. But the bee did not return.

"You are a sweet, foolish flower," said the sun kindly, "So many bees are drawn to your nectar and you have so much...I think perhaps that bee didn't like it at all. Suppose it never returns? I think perhaps it is very busy...probably it is not even a honey bee!" But the flower knew that for all its careless chiding, the sun was very sad.

Then the life of the flower cried out bitterly and said, "Oh, why was I made to come out of the seed? I didn't want to be! Why am I so laden with nectar when for all of my life I must do no more than look pretty on this windowsill?" And the Urge heard the life of the flower crying and found the bee.

"Gather more nectar, bee," it commanded, "The flower is so laden it aches with it."