I love weeds!

I was in the garden today trying to pull weeds. I used every ounce of strength in my hands and had to resort to tools to get those suckers out roots and all. They were tenacious, willing to live and to fight me with every capillary they had. But, then I went to dead head my geraniums. Those wimps were ready to come up roots and with the slightest pull. WHY? Why do we insist on calling pretty yellow dandelions weeds and why aren’t they acceptable? And why are geraniums considered a pretty flower when they require so much work to keep them blooming? Dandelions LOVE blooming. I like that about them. They are happy and yellow and want to thrive. What’s not to like?

Then it made me start thinking about people. Are some people considered weeds? Are some people treasured more, the flowers in our world? I think some of the people our society treasures require a whole lot more than some of the weeds in our society. And who actually contributes to our community? I mean really? Not to dis anyone, but what does Paris Hilton contribute besides economically by shopping compared to the laborer who works 12 hour days tending a field?

The other day I was asked by a homeless woman for bus change. I hate change. My first response was that I didn’t have any change because I normally don’t really have any on me.. . .I dump it in the console of my car, but then I remembered - recently I had gathered up all of the change in my car and put it in a little wallet. I figured I’d use it for coffee money or something, but I wanted it all in one place so it wasn’t in my way anymore. Change just gets in the way, doesn’t it? The little wallet was sitting on my front seat when this lady approached me. I picked up the wallet and handed to her. There was enough money in there for bus fare, several days worth of coffee and a scone or two, and I’m sure a few meals at the local McDonalds. I dump all of my change for the last 2 months in my console. The wallet was worth even more than its contents, though, but I’m sure she didn’t care about that. I didn’t care at the time about that either. I cared more about this woman. The look on her face when I handed her the wallet was the best thing ever. Talk about a connection, I think that was one that made my week.

This woman would probably be considered a weed. She isn’t a Paris kind of person. . . the type of people our society considers a flower not that there is anything wrong with Paris. There was no glamour in this woman, no little dog in her bag (she didn’t have a bag) and I’m pretty sure her clothes didn’t have any names on the labels unless they were written in laundry marker. There was nothing in this woman except a simple request person to person. I liked her. She said she liked my car. I’m glad she took the wallet full of change I gave her, and I’m glad God made me pick it all up and put it in the wallet the days just before. It felt like it was one of those “meant to be” moments.

I don’t know where this woman went on the bus, but I sure hope that whoever tends the garden she lives in never tries to dig her up. I think she will bloom no matter what, and I like that in a person.