Every weed is but an unloved flower. — Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1850–1919), American writer

For many years I tried really hard to kill these beautiful lady bells. I didn’t know what they were and naively treated them as a troublesome weed. Every year they would just come back. Eventually I gave up and discovered their gorgeous purple bells. But, next problem, they grow quietly and stubbornly in places I do not choose. I have no say in the matter.

Now that I am softer and older, I just smile at them when I walk by. They know they are messing with my patience, just like each of my daughters did at around age 13. And, like my daughters, they know I wouldn’t trade them for the world.

Any weeds sassing at you lately? Or are you too busy looking for love in all the wrong places to notice?