How the Buttercups Came Back

 

The field was bathed in brilliant yellow sunshine. The grasses looked very dry, the weeds appeared heavy, unsatisfied and dull. Nowhere was a flower to be seen.

Low flying swallows and dark clouds indicated a thunderstorm was not far away. One of the weeds, a thorny looking Nettle, dominated the fields.

Tsep the Beetle was on his way to visit Nettle for a chat and to gossip with her. He was grumbling and seemed to be in a very bad temper. He climbed over a few pieces of grass, pushed some sticks away, while nearly starting a free-for-all with a working ant. The ant had to make a big detour around Tsep.

Nettle was glad to have a visitor, and said "Oh, there you are. Where have you been?"

"That pesky ant was in my way", replied Tsep, "he always has to show off. I really don't see why he has to carry around all that junk."

"Oh, aren't you funny", exclaimed Nettle, "come on up so we can have a chat. I want to get a closer look at you, it seems when you get angry your colours become brighter."

"All right, why not? You know I have nice colours all the time", and Tsep was a bit put out by this remark.

Huffing and puffing, he climbed up Nettle. He really didn't like her at times, especially when she made such remarks about his colours. But he knew his weaknesses, and one of them was the power she had over him. Most of the weeds in the neighborhood either admired or feared her.

"Boy! Is it ever hot today", complained Tsep. "Must that old sun show off so much up there? I hope a cloud will come by soon to chase him away for awhile."

Nettle seemed to be laughing when she said, "so, Tsep. There you are. You seem to be getting older and taking longer and longer to climb up."

Tsep asked, "What's new? How is our young neighbor doing. I don't like him at all. He's different, let me tell you. He's not one of us. It doesn't look like a weed."

"Well, as a matter of fact, that is just what I wanted to talk with you about', confided Nettle to the beetle. "He's different, all right. I told him this morning he must say "Good Morning" to me every day. Do you know what he said? It actually had the nerve to tell me I am selfish and he couldn't get any air or sunlight, also that his feet were always being pushed around by mine. How do you like that?"

"Well, I'll be", said Tsep, "the nerve he's got! Well, what else is new?"

"oh, that lark was here again. She just left before you arrived. She said she heard way up in the sky that one day I will lose all my power. I know that's just big talk."

"You're right", said Tsep, "don't listen to that silly lark. Did I tell you I met Sneaky the Spider? We get along, but that's about all. The other day I was sleeping and she crawled right over my back, saying "Excuse Me". Then she went on to tell me that she had to weave her web right where I was sleeping. As if there wasn't room enough in the field. I'm sure she did it on purpose, but I must admit she did get rid of those awful fireflies. I never could stand them, such showoffs with their lights."

"But I must be on my way now", continued Tsep, "it looks like rain. Shall I give that intruder a pinch? You know, the strange fellow who was so rude to you?"

Nettle wasn't interested, "Oh, don't bother", she said, "not a drop of rain will he get until he bows down and respects me. I have my ways! See you, Tsep, and say hello to Sneaky the Spider for me, I think she's the greatest."

The clouds burst open and the fresh spring rain fell down. Nettle took all the water from the new young neighbor. She spread her feet over his when the first drops came and the young fellow could hardly breathe. The night came and went. When the first sun rays touched the earth, the young plant heard a sharp voice.

"Hey, you. Wake up! It's time to say Good Morning to me", screamed Nettle. But the stranger did not answer.

"Oh, so you're playing dummy, eh?", and Nettle bent forward to take a good look at him, but suddenly shrieked, "Oh no! You're a flower. It cannot be! You are a flower! How dare you? All the time I have ruled here and managed to get rid of all you flowers. And now you! Tsep, Tsep, come quickly! Look! A buttercup!

Tsep, hearing his friend's cries, came scurrying quickly to the spot.

"A buttercup!", he moaned. "What the devil. How is this possible? How dare you be a flower in our field. Nettle is the only queen and flower here."

Tsep left, outraged, going straight home. Then the song of the lark disturbed the silence, and Nettle looked up. She saw the lark fly near this buttercup and heard her whispering something.

The lark was speaking to the buttercup. "My, how beautiful you are. How are you doing, little buttercup? What lovely colours you have. You look almost exactly like my friend the sun, who I visit all spring and summer long. I learn a lot from him, and he's very kind. I will tell him about you. But beware of your neighbor Nettle. She is very jealous! Well, I'm off now but we'll meet again.

The lark spread her wings, circling higher and higher up in the sky, singing her happy song.

Buttercup was pleased be had a new friend, one who visited him and told him about the sun. Suddenly a soft and humming creature landed on his bead.

"Hi!", the voice said lightly, "I'm Busy the Bee. I used to come here often, but all the flowers disappeared, so I went to the other fields. I have never seen you here before. There are lots of lovely flowers like you in the other fields. Don't worry, all I do is take your sweet nectar to make honey. If I can be of any help to you, just let me know. Maybe I can take a message to your relatives in the other field sometime?"

Then, just as fast as he had come, Busy the Bee disappeared.

Nettle was enraged. "I'm asking you, first we had the old bird visiting and now the bees are coming back too. And all this bother because of one silly flower."

Buttercup didn't reply and was overwhelmed by the changes. First, the friendly lark - and now Busy the Bee. The evening came, but Buttercup couldn't sleep at all.

He noticed he was becoming bigger and bigger. The next morning, when the first light appeared of the new day, his friend the lark came earlier than usual.

"I spoke with the sun yesterday", confided the lark, "and he was happy to hear about you. Your golden crown is his sign of love for you. He says changes are soon to come, but how and when, he did not say. Good-bye!"

The Buttercup was curious and wondered what it was all about. After awhile the flower heard a soft voice nearby, but couldn't see where it came from.

The voice was saying, "When the rainbow comes today, you must look about but stay up straight. The further you can see, the better - for there will be many changes in the field."

Buttercup asked who was speaking, but all he heard in reply was, "Remember, only when the rainbow comes."

"A rainbow", he mused to himself, "a rainbow".

Busy the Bee came earlier than usual that day too and left without saying a word. The weather began to change quickly. The sun and clouds played hide and seek. Clouds bumped into each other and thunder broke loose. The wind increased. Rain fell, while lightning flashed all around. Buttercup knew he had to keep his head up high if he wanted to see the rainbow.

The rains calmed down, and the sun appeared - pushing the clouds away with his powerful rays.

All of a sudden, Buttercup noticed the beautiful coloured arc in the sky. It was truly a glorious sight. How proudly the rainbow spanned the horizon.

The winds tried to push Buttercup over, but he reached upwards. Suddenly he heard a soft note of music.

First he thought the lark had returned. But somehow, it was different music, as if the children of the wind had raindrops came together, and all the colours of the rainbow joined in to bring a concert to the field.

Then little Buttercup fell asleep.

Just how long he had slept, Buttercup could not remember. When he awoke, he heard voices crying out.

"Have mercy! Have mercy!", he heard Nettle pleading.

Nettle and all the weeds around her were making a terrible noise. Then buttercup saw what caused their anguish. As far as he could see, the field was nothing but gold and yellow from the many buttercups that graced the meadow.

He wondered if he was dreaming, but then heard the soft music again. Now he noticed that it was the pretty golden and yellow flowers who made the beautiful melody.

But the moaning and crying of Nettle and the weeds went on. One by one the weeds fell to the ground and withered away. Tsep came by to see his friends Nettle but only arrived in time to hear her last words.

Soon the field was humming with Busy's relatives. Together with the singing of his friends the lark, and the music of the bees in the meadow, Buttercup was very, very happy.

He looked up into the sky and said.

"Thank you, O Sun"

"Thank you, O Rain"

Copyright 1998 Henri van Bentum