The snake that mixed the scent of flowers

⏱ ~5 min reading

In an old flower garden, where roses of all colors grew—pink as the morning sky, white as milk, and red as ripe cherries—there lived a little snake. Her name was Zislinka. She was thin, smooth, with delicate green patterns on her back. And she had one special habit that amazed all the other snakes.

Zislinka loved the smell of flowers.

Every morning, when the dew still lay on the petals, like small transparent beads, Zislinka crawled her way through the flower garden. She stopped at each flower. At the cornflower - blue, like a vein on grandma's hand. At the mallow - fluffy, warm. At the leuconia, which smelled so sweet that it made you want to close your eyes.

The little bird pressed its thin face against the petal and breathed in. Deeply, deeply. And froze for a moment - happy.

The other snakes in the garden just shook their heads.

"Snake," said the old snake aunt who lived under the stone. "Snakes have no feelings. We are cold-blooded. We don't smell flowers. We catch mice.".

"And I sniff," Zislinka replied softly. "Why not?"

— That's not how it's done.

"And I want to. Isn't that forbidden?"

Aunt Snake couldn't find anything to say and crawled away.

One warm morning, when the sun had just gilded the petals of a large pink rose in the very center of the flower garden, Zislinka crawled along the path. She loved to be near this rose the most - because it smelled the most delicately. You can't even describe the smell: sweet, a little bitter, warm, and cool at the same time.

The little bird stopped. She raised her face. She leaned against one petal, soft as a little child's face. She inhaled. And closed her eyes in happiness.

And a bee was circling above her.

The bee's name was Zhuzh. She flew in for nectar and found a snake near her favorite flower. Zhuzh hovered in the air and hummed mockingly.

"Hey, you're a snake! You're not into flowers. Don't you know that snakes aren't interested in flowers?"

The snake opened its eyes. It looked at the bee calmly and smiled a little - and no one knew exactly how a snake smiles, but it was a real snake smile.

"I know what people say," Zislinka said quietly. "But I do it my own way.".

Zhuzh sat down on a petal nearby. She put her little paws together. She looked at the snake carefully.

"Are you really enjoying it? From the smell?"

Zislinka nodded without saying a word. Then she inhaled the scent of the rose again, slowly, enjoying it.

Zhuzh was silent for a long time. Then she said, completely without mockery:

"You know, I've never seen anything like that. I thought snakes were cold, scary, and empty-hearted. That's what everyone said.".

"No one tells me what I can love and what I can't," Zislinka replied softly. "I decide for myself. The smell of flowers is my little happiness. It doesn't bother anyone.".

Zhuzh thought. Her small striped body gleamed in the sun. She looked at Zislinka again - carefully, carefully, as if she were seeing her for the first time.

"You are an extraordinary snake," she finally said.

"And you are an extraordinary bee," Zislinka smiled. "Because any other bee would have flown away long ago. But you stopped.".

They both laughed, each in their own way. The bee laughed with a thin "dzzzz," and the snake laughed with a soft rustle of scales.

“You know,” said Zhuzh, “you are teaching me one important thing.”.

— Which one?

— Don't judge by appearance. I looked at you and thought, "It's a snake, it's dangerous, it's cold." And you're more gentle than me. You stop where I'm just flying by. You're happy about something I don't notice.

The little girl tilted her face.

— And you teach me not to be afraid to be myself. Because so many times other snakes have told me "that's not how it's done." And you accepted me as I am.

From that day on, Zhuzh and Zislinka became friends. It would seem that they were a snake and a bee, two creatures that, according to all fairy tales, should have avoided each other. And yet they sat together among the roses, and each told her own story.

The bee brought Zislynka a drop of nectar on the tip of the petal and said:

"Here, try it. This is sweet happiness made from flowers.".

And Zislinka showed the bee the best flowers in the garden - the ones that Zhuzh had previously flown past without noticing.

"Here's this leuconia, look. Its smell changes from morning to evening. In the morning, it's like fresh milk. And in the evening, it's like honey.".

I tried it. And I was surprised.

The other inhabitants of the garden—flies, butterflies, even the old aunt snake—watched them from afar and slowly began to understand. That friendship is not about who you are at birth. That kindness is not a species. It is a choice. Which you can make every day, regardless of what you are dressed in—in fluffy bee stripes or in green snake scales.

And Zislinka is still crawling through that flower garden. And she loves the smell of flowers. And nothing in the world will make her think that this is not possible. Because when there is warmth in the heart, it finds a place to bloom.