Pooh and the Waiting

Pooh sat under the Great Oak tree, watching a very busy bee buzz back and forth. "I wonder," Pooh thought, rubbing his tummy, "if the honey is ready yet." But the bee only hummed a busy little song that sounded quite a bit like "Not yet, not yet." Pooh sighed a small sigh and decided that sitting was the best thing to do for now.

To make the time go faster, Pooh tried to count his toes, but he lost track after four because a butterfly floated by. "Waiting is very hard work," he whispered to the grass. The grass didn't answer, but it waved gently in the breeze, which Pooh took as a friendly nod. He leaned back and watched a fluffy cloud that looked suspiciously like a pot of honey.

A small red ladybug climbed up a blade of green grass, paused at the top, and flew away. Pooh wondered if ladybugs ever had to wait for their lunch, or if they just found it on the way. "Perhaps they are better at waiting than bears," he mused, tapping his paws together. The sun felt warm on his fur, like a cozy blanket made of light.

His tummy gave a loud, rumbly grumble that echoed inside the hollow of the tree. "Hush now," Pooh said, patting his middle gently, "we are practicing being patient." He closed his eyes and listened to the wind rustling the leaves, pretending it was the sound of a river of honey flowing nearby. It was a nice sound, even if it wasn't edible.

"If I wait hard enough," Pooh thought, "maybe the time will get tired and hurry up." But time seemed very wide awake today, stretching out long and slow like a piece of sticky toffee. He watched a snail inching across a root and realized that going slow wasn't so bad after all. The snail certainly looked like he was enjoying the journey.

Pooh stopped tapping his foot and took a deep breath that smelled of pine needles and damp earth. The waiting didn't feel so scratchy anymore; it felt soft and quiet. He noticed how the sunlight danced through the branches, making little golden puddles on the ground. "It is rather nice just being here," he smiled, closing his eyes.

Just then, the buzzing sound above changed from a busy hum to a happy drone. A single drop of golden sweetness trickled down the side of the hive high above. Pooh stood up slowly, stretching his arms and realizing that his patience had finally been rewarded. The afternoon had turned into evening, and the world seemed ready for a snack.

He dipped his paw into the fresh honey, tasting the sunshine and the flowers from the long day. "Waiting makes the honey taste sweeter," Pooh decided, licking a sticky drop from his nose. He felt full and happy, not just because of the treat, but because he had sat still long enough to see the world go by. It was, he thought, a very good day for a bear.