In a garden bursting with sunshine and buzzing with bees, lived a little Anchan flower. She had smooth, light purple petals, but she longed to be a different color.

"Why am I always purple?" she sighed one day. "I wish I could be bright red like the roses, or sunny yellow like the sunflowers!"

Just then, a wise old Phueng bee, with wings dusted with golden pollen, landed gently on her stem.

"What's this I hear?" buzzed Phueng bee, his antennae twitching. "Why all this fuss about colors, little Anchan?"

"Oh, Phueng bee," cried Anchan, "Don't you think purple is a little... dull? I want to be a color that everyone admires!"

Phueng bee chuckled, a warm, fuzzy sound. "My dear Anchan, each color has its own magic! Purple is the color of twilight skies and juicy grapes. It's a color full of mystery and dreams!"

"But I want to be like the blue sky!" Anchan insisted. "Blue is the most beautiful color of all!"

Phueng bee smiled. "Ah, the color blue! It's a special color, indeed. But it's not as simple as you might think."

"Tell me, tell me!" begged Anchan, her petals fluttering with excitement.

"Well," began Phueng bee, "The sky isn't always blue, is it? Sometimes it's fiery orange at sunset, and sometimes it's a soft gray when it rains."

"Hmm, you're right," mused Anchan.

"The secret to the color blue, little Anchan," whispered Phueng bee, "is that it's made up of all the colors of the rainbow, all mixed together! It takes all kinds of colors to make the world beautiful."