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Accepting The Syrup
Kara wrote this story after playing on the playground behind our house with her friend Ashlynn one day. I thought it was very good and wanted to pass it on to you to enjoy. ~Linda
Kara Siert
Accepting the Syrup
You may be wondering what syrup has to
do with Christianity. 'This author is certainly a strange one," you might
think.
But surprisingly, syrup has a lot to do
with becoming a Christian.
And this is why.
When I was nine and a half
years old, I was living in
We had watched a Moody Science Video,
or a Moody Movie, as we called them, about bees. It said that bees only take
enough honey from the hive to get to a certain place and back. No more, no
less. Or hopefully, no less. The Moody Movie said that sometimes, the
bees don't take the exact right amount of honey. And we found a bright
black-and-yellow bee struggling along among the grass, fluttering its wings here
or there, trying to fly but only succeeding in reaching two or less inches and
falling back down.
'Oh, poor thing!" I cried.
Ashlynn agreed. That year we were in
to naming things, even bees.
'I want to name him Jackie," I informed
my friend.
'But we already picked out a name for
bees," Ashlynn argued, 'It's Bee-Bee, remember?"
'Yes, but Jackie can be a girl and
a boy's name," I said.
Finally, we agreed that the bee's name
could be Bee-Bee Jackie Junior York Siert. 'It will just have to have two last
names," I decided. Ashlynn nodded.
By then, the bee, Bee-Bee, was sill
struggling along.
'Mom, can't we get it some
syrup?" I asked, 'I have maple syrup, pure maple syrup. We gave some
kind of corn syrup to that butterfly in
There was a large black dog that was
sniffing around the playground fence. I didn't take a particular liking to
dogs, especially big ones.
'We're coming with you," I said as Mom
left to open the gate of the playground.
'But you have to watch the bee," she
said. 'The dog can't come in the playground unless you let him in."
'Was this too big of a price to pay for
a bee?" I wondered. I believed that dog could easily jumped over the white
fence by putting his front two paws throw the slats, jumping over, and attacking
us.
But Mom was already gone. Ashlynn and
I sat there, watching the bee and backing up every time he made an attempt to
fly.
It seemed like forever for me until Mom
came back. Ashlynn had a dog; she wasn't worried about this black one who was
growling at me earlier.
It was only about five minutes Mom was
in the house, maybe even shorter.
She was busily looking for the corn
syrup, when I had advised her to use the maple syrup.
I got real worried. I don't know about
Ashlynn, though. The big black dog came and went, not even bothering to growl
at us.
Finally, I heard the creak of the gate
opening, and there was my mother. Ashlynn spotted her first.
She was carrying a paper bowl.
'I couldn't find the corn syrup," she
explained, 'So I used the maple syrup. The real kind."
She pushed the bowl towards the bee and
it tumbled through the grass, avoiding the bowl as much as it could.
'Maybe it doesn't like maple syrup,"
Ashlynn said.
'Maybe it's afraid of the bowl," I
mused.
But whatever it was, the bee
continually struggled to escape the bowl with the syrup that might have made him
live.
Mom didn't want to touch the bee; she
didn't want to get stung!
'If only we knew it was a boy," I
moaned, 'Then we could pick him up. Boy's don't sting."
Mom finally got a big pile of maple
syrup right by Bee-Bee's side. He shook his body and walked away, looking like
he had a limp.
He would continually shake himself and
I decided he must be looking for honey. But he didn't have any and he wasn't
going to accept the syrup any time soon.
'If only he knew…." I faltered.
Ashlynn nodded a sad nod.
I walked over and climbed onto the
white bouncy horse. I kissed his mane and thought, 'If only Jackie
knew….accepting that syrup is a matter between life and death."
I believed that Bee-Bee liked the maple
syrup just as much as if it were honey. I thought that it didn't like the
nectar from white clover flowers or else they didn't have any.
'There's lots of clover available and
he's not taking it," I thought, 'So it must not be the way!"
'Come on, girls, get some exercise!"
Mom cried, 'You can't just sit there and think about the bee. Run around!
PLAY!"
Mom smiled and tried to scoop up the
maple syrup she had poured onto the playground for Bee-Bee to drink.
'Now I've made a sticky mess," she
grumbled, 'And accomplished nothing."
Mom couldn't get up the rest of the
maple syrup off with the edge of the bowl and she sighed, threw up her hands and
tossed it into the garbage can.
I looked over at Bee-Bee. Ashlynn, who
had been spinning around and around on one of the playground 'amusements", came
over and looked at Bee-Bee, too.
'If only he knew what to do," Ashlynn
sighed.
We decided that we would play for a
bit, but not forgetting to look at Bee-Bee and the remains of the maple syrup.
We ran through the playground and
Ashlynn cried, 'Let's make a routine!"
That was one of Ashlynn's favorite
things to do.
Making a routine wasn't exactly my
favorite, but I pounded up the steps and tried to cross the rope bridge.
'I'm the troll," Ashlynn said.
'No thanks," I grumbled. I was grumpy
about Bee-Bee. Why couldn't he accept the syrup?
'Come on," Ashlynn said, 'I'll ask you
a question and then you can cross. Just one question."
'Okay," I mumbled.
'Who created us?" she asked.
'God," I replied. This was certainly
easy!
I ran across the bridge and climbed
across the metal bars to the platform, or 'tower". Then I jumped down and went
to the little purple bridge, where I discovered some writing on the playground.
'Look, Ashlynn!" I cried, 'Remember we
were playing mystery a little while ago? Here's another clue! And with
a green marker, just like the if you read this you are probably dead or
beware of death things on the wooden train playground!"
I couldn't read the words, so I called
Mom over.
'These might be bad words," I told
Ashlynn as Mom made her way across the small bridge, 'Don't try to say them."
Mom told us they weren't bad words, but
whoever wrote them sure had bad handwriting.
'Serves them (or him, or her) right," I
grumbled, 'Writing all over the community playground like this."
Just then, a bee buzzed around our
heads.
'That might have been Bee-Bee!" Mom
exclaimed.
We hurried over to the spot where the
center of out attention had used to be, looking like he had broken his legs,
crawling, making an attempt to fly and running away from the syrup.
'He's gone!" Ashlynn and I exclaimed
in unison.
'He must have buzzed by to say thank
you," Mom laughed.
And after that, I raced over the white
bouncy horse, gave it a kiss and thought, 'Finally. Accepting that syrup
is sort of like Christianity…."
And just then, Bee-Bee buzzed by again
around my head and flew away.
'How many times does a bee have to say
thank-you?" I wondered. But really, I didn't mind. Bee-Bee had accepted the
syrup.
You see, this story is like our present
conditions here on earth.
Bee-Bee represents us. Ashlynn, Mom
and I are kind of like God or his angels, trying to give us people on earth to
accept the syrup, which is the Good News.
Some of us won't accept it; we run away
from it, just like Bee-Bee did.
We are struggling along in life, maybe
physically and spiritually; maybe we're rich, maybe we're poor, but we
haven't accepted the syrup.
We're trapped, trapped in our sins,
just as Bee-Bee was trapped on the ground, unable to fly. We couldn't fly away
from our sins; we are too sinful and not yet forgiven.
But Bee-Bee finally accepted the syrup,
and he was able to fly away, collect the rest of his honey and return to his
hive.
I felt glad that I had played a part in
Bee-Bee's rescue, and Ashlynn and I had no problem playing after that, in fact,
I ran around the playground three times (of course, the inside part
because I didn't like dogs) and Ashlynn and I talked all about Bee-Bee. The
angels will rejoice when one of us become a Christian, just as I decided it
would be easier, much easier, to run around the playground and have fun after
Bee-Bee had flown away, not before.
And now, would you like to
accept the syrup?
Let me give you some more information
about the gospel.
1. God sent his only son, Jesus, to
die a terrible death on a cross for our sins, which is anything we think, say or
do that does not please God.
2. Jesus did not stay dead, though.
He rose again! And even if you were the only person on the earth, Jesus still
would have died for you. Isn't that amazing?
3. But not everyone knows this. That
is why you must tell others about accepting the syrup!
4. But, you must become a Christian
first. And here's how you do that:
You must be sorry for your sins and
believe that Jesus died for you. Then, you can pray a simple prayer like this:
Dear God, I'm sorry for my sins and I believe you died and rose again for
me. Please come into my heart and make me part of your family. Amen.
Your prayer doesn't have to be fancy, just make sure you mean it, and mean it with all your heart. After you become a Christian, you're still going to sin. But you can ask Jesus to forgive you and he will forget your sins as if they never happened. The Bible tells you more about Jesus, his life on earth, his miracles and things that happened before he died. And also, be on the look out for people you can tell about accepting the syrup.
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