The true story of ants

Clumsy and plump, Steven Pfenniger cried easily, which didn’t earn him any respect from the pack of kids running our neighborhood in Hutchinson, KS.
His dad owned a shop just off Fourth Street and repaired TVs, but we didn’t know much more about him or his family — which was unusual in our subdivision.
We often played along a steep-banked canal which ran west of our house, using cardboard sleds to slide down the grassy inclines in the summer, shoe-skating on the ice in the winter, or just exploring along the banks.
One summer morning we were all playing along the canal when suddenly Steven started crazy-dancing, stripping off his jeans, and screaming, “I’ve got ants in my pants! I’ve got ants in my pants!”
I’m ashamed to say I laughed along with the other kids, but I felt bad later when I heard he suffered serious welts from the ant bites.
Many years later and several states away, Steven has gotten his revenge.
Of the 13,800 identified species of ants, we have at least 13,000 on our property, coming in all sizes and in all combinations of red and black.
Although they’re not welcome in our house and garden, ants are fascinating creatures that create societies containing caste systems, including queens that can live up to 30 years; male drones who live only a few weeks; wingless, sterile female soldiers; and workers that live one to three years.
Those hard worker ants can carry food 10 to 50 times their weight, but they aren’t designated as foragers or soldiers until they reach a certain age, since those activities come with a high mortality rate.
These tiny colonizers are great engineers and architects. Their nests usually contain long tunnels connecting multiple rooms which they use to store food or raise their young.
Rearing their babies is a complex task that includes feeding the larvae and making sure the temperature remains perfect for their development.
When the temperature’s not optimal, they move the little ones to other brood chambers.
Most amazingly, ants cultivate food sources, including fungi, mealybugs, and aphids.
Aphids are the most obvious food source around our place, much to my dismay. The ants “milk” the little suckers which produce a honeydew when they tap them with their antennae.
In return for this rich nutrient, the ants protect their herd from predators, move them to better feeding grounds, and even “drive” them to new colonies when they migrate.
Even though we’re not fond of them in our garden, ants actually benefit the earth by aerating and fertilizing the soil. Experts say they actually do better at improving soil composition than earthworms.
Maybe that’s why in the Chinese system of feng shui, ants symbolize good energy, good luck, and abundance.
Because of the similarities to human societies, ants have been studied for years and are featured in the ancient lore of many civilizations, one of which is the story of the Hopi Ant People.
The Creator became upset with those living under the earth in the First World when they became too materialistic and engaged in inappropriate behavior, so He destroyed that world with fire.
However, Spider Woman had compassion on those who remembered their Creator and helped them escape by leading them to the Ant People who took them into their homes and shared their supplies with them.
In fact, the Ants gave them so much of their food they had to tighten their belts, resulting in their narrow waists. They taught the Hopi how to grow and store food and build homes when they finally emerged into the world of light.
The idea of ascending out of darkness through different worlds into light is a universal motif. I was thinking about that while I walked on a trail above the Virgin River in St. George, trying to avoid stepping on the numerous ants that had made the path their own.
I came across a fenced-off area full of trees with a sign identifying it as the “The Healing Grove.” The placard explained that after the Quail Creek Dam broke, raging waters deposited four feet of sand along the river banks.
The owners, who ran a landscaping business, created a dog-run there for their two Labradors.
Since the dogs needed shade, they took the “discarded, sickly, and damaged trees” they removed while landscaping other property and planted them in the pen.
“Given a second chance in this unlikely hospital,” the sign read, “and to our surprise, the trees flourished. Every tree here today was once discarded as worthless. .
“...The Healing Grove is a lot like life. Some people are injured, sickly, or damaged. . .. However, if given fertile soil and a loving caretaker, they too will flourish.
“...then, like the trees in the Healing Grove, they will enrich us, provide shade from the heat of life and live together in harmony.”
As I contemplated that message, I realized that far too often it takes time for us to ascend out of the darkness of childish, selfish thinking into the light of compassion and love.
I hope Steven Pfenniger, wherever he is, can forgive my mocking laughter, and that in his own journey he met some wonderful “Ant People,” those willing to share so much of their sustenance they had to tighten their belts as they taught him to build in the world of light.

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