Blog > Honey Wasn't the Point
He taught me without teaching.
I remember asking my grandpa, probably fifty years ago, why he kept bees.
I was a kid and didn’t see the appeal. Bees stung. They buzzed around your head. They lived in boxes you didn’t mess with unless you wanted trouble.
Grandpa lived up the hill from us with Grandma. A small place. A big garden. A dozen fruit trees. Strawberries, raspberries, beans, peas, and just about every fruit or vegetable you could grow in Missouri. And a few white bee boxes sitting off to the side like they belonged there.
I asked him why he kept them.
He smiled and said, “Because they do more work than I ever could.”
At the time, I thought he meant the honey.
Grandpa and Grandma raised most of what they ate. The honey sat on the counter in a glass jar. Thick. Dark. Grandma used it in tea and on biscuits. If you got a cut, she’d dab some on it. If your throat hurt, Grandpa told you to take a spoonful and get on with your day.
Later, he showed me the garden. Melons. Squash. Cucumbers. Strawberries. Asparagus. He said without bees, most of it wouldn’t be there, or it wouldn’t be worth the effort. You could plant it, tend it, and still come up short if the bees weren’t working.
They didn’t just make honey. They made things grow.
Grandpa was one of the kindest people you’d ever meet. Quiet. Patient. He treated the bees the same way he treated people. With care and respect.
Now I keep bees too.
Every time I open a hive, I think about that answer. The bees are still doing more work than I ever could.
Honey is nice.
But the real value is everything that comes with it.
That’s how old timers teach you things.
They don’t make a big deal out of it.
Dennis Prussman,
Premier Land & Auction Group
Real Broker, LLC,