On one flower sat a small and young beetle, almost a man. He waved his wings, thereby making a buzzing. A bee of the same age flew to him, like a beetle.
Good day, Eugene, the bee greeted.
Eugene turned. Seeing the bee, he smiled lightly and gently.
Good, he replied.
And what are you thinking about so much, that you even buzzed? She asked.
Well, - the beetle began, - you, Anna, did not think about why bees need only be engaged in the production of honey?
In terms of? did not understand Anna. Do you mean that bees have a meaningless life?
Not exactly ... Why do we, insects, need to engage in one specific activity that nature will give us?
But these are our natural instincts, Anna replied. Then she added, "why do you think about it at such an early age?" After all, only elderly beetles philosophize.
Not necessarily the elderly, retorted Eugene. He still asked the young man a question, think about it Anna. What do you want in this life?
She pondered.
Think, this is a good subject for reasoning, he said, and flew off to a nearby meadow.