Why? Why should I be so busy and tired all day long? Why should I be responsible for the food? Why should I be taking care of the young? Why should I be defending my colony from intruders? ¡KWhy? Why was I born a worker ant?
I kept asking these questions today until my grandfather told me a story.
He said my father asked the same questions every day. One day, unfortunately, he lost 2 legs on the way he carried the food home. Then, he no longer needed to do all the things that a worker ant needed to do. He should be happy, right? No, he was not. He regretted that he had made all these blames before. He learnt that he needed to work so hard because he got that potential! He died when he was 30 days old, shorter than an ant should be.
I felt shame after I heard that story.