It is a well-known fact that I love roses. Two of my most prized possessions are the rose bushes behind my fountain. I searched high and low for the roses with the largest, most fragrant blooms known to mankind (that is just barely an exaggeration), and planted them in the sunniest spot in my yard. They look and smell heavenly.
Unfortunately, during my springtime of endless campaigning and schoolwork, I did not have time to prune back any of my plants properly.
Without the proper care, the gardens went native. My Japanese Maple turned into a regular old maple tree, and one of my gorgeous rose bushes turned wild. By the time the convention was over and I had discovered my plants’ errant ways, there was still time to prune back the maple’s wild growth, but I couldn’t bring myself to prune away the new, blossom-laden rose branches that swirled around my fountain.
My rose bush – my beautiful, fragrant rose bush – was…
…still beautiful, in an entirely different way.
Now there is a wild rose bush in my garden, reminding me not only of the importance of proper pruning, but also that out of life’s most chaotic moments can come beauty.
It just might not be the beauty we planned on.