"I couldn't agree with you more," Rosie chimed in. Daisy, Mary, and Cornelius shrugged. "Why is he still here among all of us beautiful flowers?  Someone should pull him by his roots and toss him away.  Then, maybe a pretty new flower could take his place."

    Mary shrieked, "Hey, Mr. Weed, too bad you don't look like us.  We all have bright colorful flowers and we smell good, too.  What do you have to offer someone?  You're nothing but...a...a...a WEED!"

    Mr. Weed had heard Mary say the same thing over and over again.  He was so tired of her always picking on him. The worst part was that the others were soon to follow.

     "Yeah, why don't you move to another garden?" Rosie, Cornelius, and Daisy bellowed, "We don't want you here!"

     Poor Mr. Weed was listening to their comments, but didn't say a word.  He was so broken-hearted.  He knew that he wasn't graceful and pretty like the others.  After all, he was short and had points on his leaves that could hurt if someone touched them.  But it didn't mean that he didn't have feelings. The problem: there was nothing he could do about the way he looked.  He just happened to grow that way.

    Mr. Weed cried silently to himself, "I just wish they would give me a chance.  I really am very nice.  It's just that I am so shy and I don't know what to talk about."

    Mr. Weed desperately wanted to be included in chats with the rest of the flowers and had hoped that he would be picked for table arrangements or to go to the hospital to cheer up a sick friend.  But, he was never chosen and knew he never would be.

    Later in the afternoon, a group of Mrs. Lewis' neighbors were seen heading in the direction of the garden.  All of the flowers noticed that Penelope Lewis was leading the group. Some of the women were carrying cameras and notepads. They wanted to make sure not to miss any important information.  After all, Mrs. Lewis was always full of useful gardening tidbits.

this year!  I think you will definitely win the Bradleyville Garden Club's Grand Prize Award."

     Blushing and placing her hands over her mouth,  Penelope blubbered, "Do you really think so?  Oh, I hope you're right.  I've worked many, many hours on this garden."

     Just then, one of the women from the group moaned, "Oh Penelope, look at that pesky weed over there.  It's right between the rose bush and the daisies."  Pointing, she asked, "Do you see it, Penelope? You must get rid of that weed before the judges get here tomorrow.  It might ruin your chances of winning the grand prize."

    Penelope quickly grabbed her glasses that were hanging from the chain around her neck and bent down on her hands and knees. She peered into the flowers, "Oh, now I see you.  I will have to get my gardening gloves and get rid of you first thing tomorrow morning." Then, checking the rest of the garden to make sure there were no other weeds, Penelope stood up and seemed pleased to see nothing but delightful flowers.

     "I'm so glad that Mr. Weed will be leaving us. He just doesn't fit in.  Instead, he just sits there taking up space. Hey, Mr. Weed, you better pack your bags," Cornelius teased.

    Rosie taunted, "We sure won't miss you when you're gone."  

    Daisy added, "Yep, I'll be glad to see you go."

    Mary exclaimed, "You're out of here."

    Mr. Weed was embarrassed and afraid to look up at the flowers.  He knew what they were saying was true. He had wished that his beautiful roommates would have gotten to know him. Unfortunately, because he was so different, they never tried.

     Evening fell and the flowers tucked in their petals. They all knew they had a really big day tomorrow and wanted to be well-rested.

     "Good night Cornelius, good night Mary, good night Rosie," Daisy murmured as her petals slowly closed.

    "Good night, everyone," came the response from the others. But no one ever said, "good night" to Mr. Weed.  All was quiet in the garden and the night quickly turned into morning.

    The next day, the sun shined brightly in the sky, as the flowers got ready for the garden club's big event. Everyone wanted to look their best for Mrs. Lewis. After all, she took such good care of her flowers and made sure that they had plenty of water. Daisy, Rosie, Cornelius and Mary were all hoping that Mrs.   Lewis would win the grand prize this year.

    "Hey, Mr. Weed, it looks like it is time for you to go! I see Mrs. Lewis coming with her gardening gloves. It's been nice knowing you...NOT," Cornelius teased.

    "Good morning my beautiful flowers. Are you going to make me proud and stand up straight for the judges? Remember, no slouching.  Oh, I do hope we win this year.  I would love to place the grand prize award right here in the middle of the garden." Mrs. Lewis pointed exactly to the place where Mr. Weed was planted.  "OK, now it's time to get rid of this bothersome weed and make the garden perfect for the judges."

    "We'll be sure to write... NOT," Mary added.

    "We're going to miss you... NOT," Rosie and Daisy threw in for good measure.

    Mrs. Lewis got down on her hands and knees and grabbed Mr. Weed by his roots and pulled and pulled.  "Wow, you're a tough little thing.  I guess you like it here in the garden.  I'm sorry little guy, but you just don't fit in with the rest of the flowers."

    Finally, Mrs. Lewis yanked Mr. Weed right out of the dirt and threw him into the garbage can behind the garage.  Daisy, Rosie, Cornelius and Mary began cheering loudly.  Suddenly, they noticed the judges walking up the pathway.