Raising honeybees is a labor of love. Or, let me restate this another, more honest way. Attempting to raise honeybees is an exasperating task. Any beekeeper will tell you this fact. Honeybees are vulnerable to just about anything. If it’s too hot or too cold, too wet or too dry they will die. They are susceptible to a number of pests and predators such as hive beetles, varroa mites, and the occasional bear. I’ve lost more bees than I’ve kept, but I’m a persistent beekeeper. Why? Because the world needs these hidden treasures in small packages. Whatever it takes, they’re worth saving.
But honeybees are not our only pollinators. Let’s not forget the native, wild bees and butterflies. They feast off the very same flower nectar and tree pollen. Even if you don’t raise bees, you can help these other beneficial insects by planting patches of wildflowers. They also need a supply of clean water. If you don’t live near a creek or lake, you can provide this in a fountain or bird bath. When you transform your yard into a pollinator habitat, you will be blessed by living near these amazing creatures. Plus, you’ll help maintain our food supply, which is dependent on pollination, for years to come.
Bees and butterflies are certainly hidden treasures in small packages. But there are other, often unseen gems, we overlook. They are as vulnerable as the honeybee and need as much care. However, we must step out and become vulnerable ourselves to recognize them. I’m referring to those on the fringes of society. Most turn away when they see them or act as if they don’t exist at all. I’ve been just as culpable of this type of blindness as anyone else. Homeless. Disabled. Mentally ill. Addicted. Felons. Poor. These are some of the labels we place on those people Jesus called the least of these.
For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me . . . truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.
The words of Jesus from Matthew 25:35-40 NIV
As my husband and I were returning from our evening walk this last week, we heard a greeting from behind us. A young man wearing a backpack and a broad smile was pushing a bicycle up the mountain road. He startled me at first since I hadn’t heard him approaching. But then I recognized him. I had seen him riding past earlier in the morning heading down the mountain. He sang a joyful tune on his way. I’d wondered then who he was and where he was going.
We quickly found out that he’s living with one of our neighbors. Camping in their yard, to be exact. He shared his faith boldly with us as we stood together on the road then let us know that his immediate plans were to do some gardening while he’s here. As he waved good-bye, he called out. “Let me know if you need any help.”
I’m not sure where the young man came from originally. Perhaps, Jamaica, or somewhere in the Caribbean islands, by his accent. He’s obviously not from around here. Our new friend is a hidden treasure. He’s an outsider, a stranger . . . one of the least of these. I look forward to speaking with him again as I’m sure I will.
At first glance, we have nothing in common but our humanity and our love for Jesus. But that’s enough. Jesus calls us to care for the vulnerable of the world. Sometimes that means simply offering them our friendship. Or maybe more, depending on their circumstances. Why? Because everyone is precious in the sight of God and deserves our love, especially the least of these. Each person, no matter what label they bear, has something beneficial to offer. Even though at first, it may not be obvious, the world needs these hidden treasures in small packages. Whatever it takes, they’re worth saving.
