I moved them from the shady spot they had been hanging (begonias like shade you see) into an even shadier spot on the back porch. Silly as it is, I had been avoiding doing this very thing because it made some kind of crazy sense that I kept dying flowers hanging there so that the spot wouldn't lack flowers. I know, I know.
I pulled out my garden sheers and went to work. I trimmed each yellow sad little stem down to about 3 inches. I only left the few healthy looking leaves and cut away every brown-edged blossom. It wasn't pretty like it was supposed to be when I bought it in May. It wasn't adorning patio where it belonged. It was in ICU. It was in begonia rehab. Serving no purse, it sat on my back porch ugly and giving nothing to the world around it. Stupid dying fragile ugly begonia.
Sissy begonia that needs to live on the porch because it can't handle the rough terrain of the back patio under the trees and next to my bistro set. Dummy begonia. Begonia that I should just throw away.
And I was prepared to do just that any day now but...
Doggone if that begonia didn't produce about a half dozen fat pink blossoms two days after it's pruning and move to the back porch. Ugly stemmy sticks with a scattering of leaves and six fat healthy begonia blossoms.
I pruned that sucker right down to nothing. I pruned it so seriously that you can see the dirt it's planted in. And it bloomed.
Would you laugh at me if I told you I teared up when I saw it? Never mind. I didn't. Ahem.
I am like that stupid sissy begonia. I hang around where the conditions aren't doing a thing for me. Then I hang around a little longer watching my blossoms drop off before they can even open up. Then I wait longer still while my leaves turn yellow. And when this entire process has taken it's toll, I hang there some more and think about how ugly I am.
Stop withering away as you hang around without enough nourishment. Stop watching the blossoms of all you can be drop around your feet and feeling ashamed at what you've become.
Move, cut away the life-sucking death that hangs on to your very limbs. Let God cut away everything you think defines you.
And then behold...
you might just find a begonia waiting to bloom.