The Boy Who Could Talk With Bees

Written by Illustrated by
MAY TOBIAS-PAPA JOMIKE TEJIDO



Written by Illustrated by

MAY TOBIAS-PAPA JOMIKE TEJIDO

Copyright © 2016. , an imprint of CGKformaprint, Inc.

This book was done in partnership
with Shell companies in the Philippines.
Shell Philippines advocates for collaborative action
among all sectors - public, private and civil society -
to shape a sustainable future for all.
www.shell.com.ph/environment-society

Published by , an imprint of CGKformaprint, Inc.
2275 P. Burgos Street, Pasay City
1300 Philippines

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in
any form or by any means, including information storage and
retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher,
except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

Concept by Sankie Simbulan and Suiee Suarez
Written by May Tobias-Papa
Illustrated by Jomike Tejido
Edited by Keith Jones
ISBN 978-621-95175-2-2

Publisher’s Note

Welcome toThe Boy Who Could Talk With Bees, a wonderful addition to any
child’s bookshelf. We atFiretree Pressare delighted to bring to you this captivating
story of people working together in harmony with nature.
Shell companies in the Philippines belivees that if individuals, groups, businesses
and government collaborate and work together, a sustainable future is attainable.
In support of Shell’s vision,May Tobias-Papa, an award-winning children’s book
author, has written an enchanting tale that will appeal to a wide range of ages; from
children to adults alike. The storyline is supported by the beautifully drawn images
of award-winning illustrator and author, Jomike Tejido.
Easily r ead by independent readers aged 10 years and above, this book could also
be the centerpiece of a ‘read with me’ time for parents with younger childrenIt.
will also be a valuable addition to any classroom reading experience and could be
used to support a class discussion about the importance of people working together
and working with the environment.



Once, a very long time ago, there lived a boy named Juan and

his widowed mother. Except for the humble hut where they lived,
and the plot of land where it stood, Juan and his mother owned
very little. Juan’s father died when he was only a baby. Over time,
their land had become overrun by thorny weeds and poisonous
snakes until it was quite wild, dry, and useless.

Every morning, Juan went with his mother to the village market
carrying two heavy bagfuls of rice cakes: His mother made the most
deliciously moist and caramely-sweet, sticky rice cakes! There was,
however, only so many rice cakes even their most loyal customers
could want in a day, and so, by noon, mother and son would start
for home as soon as they sold their last piece.

Selling rice cakes, they only barely made enough money to get by
each day, so Juan’s mother always looked forward to buying honeycombs
from hunters so she could make honey syrup to sell to the merchants
who regularly came to their village.





Every afternoon, as soon as he was done with his chores, Juan walked to
the forest. In the remaining light of the day, he sat in the lush shade of his
favorite Dao tree and played his bamboo flute. Juan tried to mimic the many
sounds of the beautiful forest with his instrument.

He played a different tune every day. One day, his inspiration would be the
bubbly brook. On some days, it would be the tall bamboo swaying in the wind.
On days when he was feeling overwhelmed by too much beauty, he would play
a simple tune of thanks in unison with the birds and the humming and invisible
insects whistling all around him. Juan liked it best, though, when the music that
came out of his flute sounded like a prayer – like the soft breeze rushing and
gently whooshing around the forest.

One day, however, Juan was distracted by a buzzing in his ear. He knew that he
was all alone, but he heard a tiny, distinctly feminine voice:

“Till today, we have never been able to tell you how grateful we are to you.”
Juan jumped to his feet and looked around. His jaw dropped. To his utter
amazement, an enormous bee seemed to be talking to him.
“Thank you for saving what was left of our colony,” the bee buzzed.
“I thought it was the right thing to do,” Juan explained.
Juan thought quickly, ‘The bee must be talking about the broken piece of hive
I picked up the other day.’
“I saw that the bees clinging to the hive were still alive, though they seemed a
little drowsy,” said Juan.
He had put the hive in a hole in his beloved Dao tree’s trunk, where it would be
safe from the birds and small animals.
“We humans always take your honey. I wanted to make up for it. I am very
sorry.”
“I am Diway. I am only one of the queen bees in the forest. There are many of
us, and we each have our own colony. Mine was among the first to be attacked this





harvest season. I am alive, thanks to my trusted soldiers and workers who valiantly
fought the hunters. Sadly, most of my bees were not as lucky,” she sighed as she
recalled the sad events.

“We are building a new hive,” Queen Diway continued. “If you could help
us find a safe place, we will gladly repay your kindness. My bees are hardworking,
and the honey we will pay you, I believe, will bring you a fine profit. We can work
together.”

Honey was valued for its beautifying and medicinal properties by the merchants
who travel from afar to come to Juan’s village. Honey-hunting was a dangerous
occupation, and only a few men in their village were brave enough to do it. Most
villagers, like Juan’s mother, were quite content to make a modest profit out of
extracting honey and selling it in clay jars to the travelling merchants.

Queen Diway’s proposition was very irresistible but it made Juan feel anxious.
“I will ask the chief hunter for advice, Your Majesty,” he told Queen Diway.

“Don’t! We trust only you. Please help us!” pleaded Queen Diway. “I am
afraid my colony will be gone by next harvest, if you do not help us. The other
colonies are also in danger,” she added.

“With all due respect, my lady, but I am still too young!” Juan reasoned out.
Scared, he turned around and started walking home.

“Please think about it,” Queen Diway uttered a last plea and then flew away.

As Juan followed the dusty path that led to his house, a gentle wind blew and it
whispered in his ear.

“One’s wisdom is never expressed in the number of years one has lived –– but in
the kind of choices one makes. Never underestimate yourself, Juan,” the Wind said.

Over supper, Juan thought about what both Queen Diway and the Wind had
told him that afternoon. His silence worried his mother.

“Son, are you ill? You’ve hardly touched your food,” asked his mother.

“Mother, this afternoon, a bee offered me honey in exchange for her colony’s
protection,” Juan explained. “And ..., and ..., and the Wind had a voice. She talked to
me.”

Juan’s mother pressed the back of her hand to the boy’s forehead and neck.
“Sus, a nuno must have made you ill. I wish you’d stop going to the forest.”
Then, it dawned on him. Juan realized that whenever he played his flute, he
was conversing with nature. Mother Nature talked to him, not with words, but with
sounds, because she knew that Juan knew how to listen.
“I am not ill, Mother,” Juan said, his face brightening. “I have never felt better.
Everything is so clear to me now!”
Juan kissed his mother in his excitement. He realized that he spoke the language
of bees, and that he understood the Wind’s wise counsel. How wonderful, he thought.

The next morning, Juan went to the
house of the chief honey hunter, Mang
Tiago. He was entertaining some guests,
and so he was told by Mang Tiago’s wife
to wait. It took a while for Mang Tiago
to see Juan, and when he did, he asked
the boy gruffly, “Quick, what have you
come to see me for?”

“My kind Sir,” Juan began, “I
have an idea for a better, safer way of
harvesting honey.”

The chief hunter laughed. His breath
smelled of coconut wine.

“My boy …” Mang Tiago let out a
loud belch, and leaned so close that Juan
had to turn his face away from his bad
breath. “Leave the honey-hunting to
us grown-ups. Run along now. Go play
hide-and-seek with the other children.”

Juan felt so disappointed. “But
I can’t let Queen Diway and the
bees down,” he thought. So Juan
went to the village leader Ka Sabio
to try and talk him into teaching
the villagers a new manner of
honey-gathering. Although he
seemed interested, Ka Sabio was
not hopeful. “My child,” he said,
“it is impossible to make the
bamboo bend another way after
it has already fully grown. Their
way is the only way. The hunters
never listen to anybody.”

As Juan had feared, more beehives
were destroyed over the following
days. Hunters got their hands on all
the hives they could find –– both big
ones and even small, new ones. They
broke and pried the hives open to get
to the precious honeycombs.

Every day, the hunters built fires all
over the forest, to smoke the hives
hidden high in the trees. This made
the bees dizzy and sleepy.

Everyday, with all the smoke and the
crackling of burning twigs and leaves,
it seemed as if the whole forest was
burning. Desperate and frightened,
the bees fought back, causing serious
injury to many of the hunters.





If we do not soon change the way we
gather honey, not only will the hunters’ lives
be in danger, we will also soon run out of
honey to harvest,” Juan preached to each
hunter and villager.

“The bees told me it can be done.
We can work together in harmony,” he
said. “We should provide safety for both
the bees and the hunters. I know the bees
will produce enough honey for us and
themselves if we protect and respect them.”

The hunters and the villagers refused to
listen to Juan. They thought the method
he proposed was ridiculous. “What the
bees told him, indeed! Crazy child,” they
laughed.

Each night Juan went home feeling defeated. “I need to do something,
even if it means I will have to do it on my own,” he told himself.

“Little steps, big change!” was the playful Wind’s mysterious message.

Every day, Juan picked up discarded hives from hunting sites and
took them home. This made his mother nervous, but Juan quickly
reassured her that the bees were harmless, and that they only sting
when they feel threatened.

Every day, too, queen bees from different bee colonies sought
Juan’s help. Thanks to Queen Diway, he had acquired a reputation
among the bees as a hive-rescuer. Unlike Mang Tiago and the other
hunters who covered themselves from head to foot, Juan handled
the broken beehives with bare hands and without protective body
covering. The bees trusted him and felt safe around him.

In the backyard of their small hut, Juan built wooden hives for each
bee colony, and this made the queens very happy. The bees became
more productive and worked faster. They did not have to fly very far
to collect nectar and pollen because, around the little hut, Juan’s
mother had planted all the flowering trees and plants they needed.

With the bees now living around him and so near, Juan was able
to closely observe how efficiently they worked together, and he was
inspired. He was amazed how each little bee fulfilled its role and
worked hard for the colony – whether as queen, soldier, worker, or
drone. He was impressed by how they were all united in purpose
for the health, nourishment, and security of their colony.



Meanwhile, news of Juan’s bee farm spread among the bee colonies in the
forest. But the displaced bees were arriving at the little bee farm much faster than
Juan and his mother could cope. Soon, Juan thought, he should clear more of the
land and build more new wooden hives for the bees. But how could he do that
with no help and no money, especially as his mother had stopped making and
selling rice cakes because of a lack of time?

By the next honey harvest season, however, as Queen Diway and the other
queen bees had promised, they repaid Juan’s efforts with honey. Juan and his
mother wisely used their earnings to hire their neighbor Mang Amable to help
out with the work on the bee farm.

At the end of a long day at his bee farm, Juan managed to find some time
before sunset to play his flute.

“Everything is connected,” the Wind playfully whispered in Juan’s ear.

“We just need to listen to everything in nature to learn how to make everything
work in harmony!” Juan replied to his invisible friend. He felt renewed with an
understanding of the world around him, and this realization found its way into
the beautiful music of his flute.

Juan’s heart was filled with gratitude. However, he wished he could share his
good fortune with the hunters and the villagers. “If only they knew how to listen,
too,” he sighed.



With Mang Amable’s help, Juan cleared a larger
part of the wilderness in their backyard and built
sturdier homes for the bees. “I believe there is
something we humans can learn from bees,” Juan
told the old man while they were working.

“People should think more like bees. Nobody
should ever feel too small to start a big change. Every
little bit helps. If we all work together, we can create
all the difference in the world.”

Meanwhile, there were considerably less hives
in the forest to hunt, just as Juan had predicted.
The hunters and the villagers soon regretted laughing
at Juan’s warning. They were quite surprised to learn,
however, that Juan and his mother had honey to sell,
and they wondered how that was possible.

Mang Amable was stunned by Juan’s wisdom. Working with bees had indeed
taught him valuable lessons, as Juan said it would. And so, every time he came
home to his family at the day’s end, Mang Amable happily shared the insights
he gained while tending to bees and collecting honey at the bee farm. In turn,
his family shared Juan’s wonderful story with their friends. Thus, in no time,
the tale spread — of how a thriving bee farm miraculously rose in the backyard
of Juan and his mother’s little hut.

Suddenly, villagers and former bee-hunters alike came to the bee farm to
ask Juan for work. They offered their services in exchange for some grains of
rice. The villagers had hoped to be able to listen to Juan’s words and music
themselves, so that they could be inspired like Mang Amable.

However, Juan would not hear of anyone volunteering their services for small
wages. He happily welcomed all who wanted to work for him and paid them
fairly. The people he could not take in as employees, he simply taught how to start
and keep their own bee farms.

As for the bees, they were very happy. The hardworking insects transformed
the wasteland around the little hut into an incredibly lush paradise of flowering
shrubs and trees.



As Juan and his workers worked on the bee farm, more and
more bees came. And as more and more bees came, Juan’s bee
farm produced more and more honey.

In time, Juan eventually got his wish. Starting with Mang
Amable, he was able to convert an entire village to a new way
of thinking. And he did this by taking a first step and setting an
example.

One by one, the villagers gained their own individual wisdom,
thanks to the little boy who knew how to listen to nature — the
little boy who took counsel from the wind; the little boy named
Juan, who could talk with bees.









Nobody is too small to start a big change.
We all have unique gifts to share and when we put all of these together,
we can build a better world– with persistence, optimism, and collaboration.
We can all learn from the story of Juan and the bees, that together we can...

BEE resilient.
BEE phenomenal.

BEE heroes.

www.shell.com/poweringprogress
#PoweringProgress