Joan Holtzman —
Sometimes it’s important to remind myself of – and put down in words – the bright spots that light up what often seems like a dark world. Today is such a day and so there will be no talk any grim circumstances. Today I write about “bug heaven”.
Until a few weeks ago I had never heard of “bug heaven” – perhaps you haven’t either. It happened on a day when I was serving as sous-chef (sous-bartender?) to several young girls, none of them older than seven and a half. Their objective for that afternoon was to run a lemonade stand. My role was to lend support: answer an occasional question, do some product testing, help carry out the necessary paraphernalia. The girls did the lemon-squeezing, sugar-measuring, ice and water-adding themselves; also the necessary signage announcing the sale itself and the price per cup. As expected, paying customers soon arrived; and so did unexpected non-paying customers: ants, beetles, creepy-crawly things – in short, bugs.
Acting in what I assumed was a move consistent with my role, I raised my arm and was about to take a swipe at them when my hand was stayed. “Stop, don’t do it!” a small chorus cried. I explained that bugs crawling around the marketplace was not conducive to selling product. “But bugs like lemonade too, and we can make a special place for them”. And so they did. A short distance away, they devised a low platform made of cardboard covered with leaves, fitted it out several small cups filled with soil, pebbles and lemonade, tilted them at an angle and carefully moved the bugs to their new site. Monitors checked on them occasionally and removed any new invaders from the primary site to their own private venue. This was, of course, “bug heaven”. Regular business went on as usual until it was time to stop.
Later, after we had packed it in and washed up, the four-year-old among us said she was going to check on the bugs, see how they were faring. She was not happy with what she found; there didn’t seem to be as many bugs as they had set out. “Maybe they just got bored and went back home”, someone suggested. “But, she insisted, “there were quite a few bugs I did see – on the platform and in the cups.” “They were”, she announced, “dead.” Doing my best to stay in role, I said that, probably, they died a natural death – bugs having a short life span. “Or maybe the lemonade killed them – all that sugar” said someone younger and wiser. “Anyhow,” she ventured further, “I think we should bury them.” And it was done. In a remote corner of the side yard the dead bugs were laid to rest, the cups inverted over their corpses. A small voice said, “Now they are really in bug heaven.”
So we come to the second iteration of “bug heaven”, a place where, perhaps, bugs go after they die. I couldn’t quite imagine it myself and looked to my young companions to get a better grasp. Over dinner, I asked what and where and how bug heaven works. “Well”, I was told by the youngest amongst us, “it’s like heaven for people, only for bugs. It’s got beautiful grass and trees only it’s up in the sky. And it’s only for ‘good’ bugs”. I thought for a moment about the prospect of bugs having souls and whether there was a hell for not-so-good bugs. I didn’t go there. I did ask how one could tell a good bug from a bad one and was told that good bugs do what they should, like doing their jobs; bad bugs don’t.
It was getting late, a video was waiting and visible signs of impatience were beginning to set in. There was only one more question to ask: Did this group of four to seven year olds believe that their bugs, the ones they had spared from harm, the ones they had created a heaven-on-earth for, the ones who nevertheless died – did they believe these bugs were headed for heaven? One of them thought maybe not, since the bugs had gone for the lemonade and strayed from whatever their designated work was. Most of them thought that was ridiculous, that the bugs were only doing what came naturally. Moreover, they pointed out, since it was they who made the lemonade in the first place, the bugs should not be held responsible or punished in any way. Consensus? If there is a bug heaven (and the oldest thought there probably wasn’t) our bugs would rest in peace.
For what it’s worth, I don’t believe in bug heaven either, but I am delighted to contemplate the place and remind myself of the wonderful way kids think and act and try to make sense of the world. It gives me hope.
In the interests of full disclosure, two of the children described here are related to me: grandchildren; the other two are close friends of theirs.
For the purposes of disambiguation, there appears to be a video game called” Bug Heaven”. I have no idea what it’s about. And I have no intention of playing.
3/30/2015
cool
fun!