In a small,kitchen, a woman stood sorting beans with practiced hands. Her routine was simple: pick the plives, the cracks, the shrivers anything unfit and toss them into the backyard. The rest Into the pot, for stew, for dinner, for nourishment. It was practical, efficient. But one rainy season came, and the discarded beans, buried in neglect, stirred.
Water seeped, roots stretched, and green shoots pushed through the soil. What was once trash became a secret garden.The woman, fetching laundry one morning, stumbled upon this surprise. Her eyes widened. These The ones I threw away š²
Sheād judged them useless. Now, they were thriving. Beans curled into tender pods, leaves danced with butterflies. Harvest time arrived, and she gathered them with a mix of shame and awe. The beans sheād discarded had turned into gifts and food unexpected, beautiful, abundant. As she shelled them, a quiet lesson settled: value isnāt always visible at first. Like seeds, potential hides, waiting for rain.
We do this often sort, discard, keep. Label things āgoodā or ābad.ā But the backyard teaches otherwise. Adversity, neglect, even rejection Incubators for growth. The beans grew because they werenāt coddled. No pot, no care, just space. And rain.
Maybe weāre all beans in someoneās yard overlooked skills, dismissed dreams. Yet given a chance, the āuseless bloom". The woman now harvests twice: the obvious, and the hidden. She cooks them differently slower, with gratitude. Tastes the same, but richer. What inspired this write up was that ,Thereās this friend that I knew 20 years back in my neighbourhood. We used to chat well, but it got to a stage where everyone just went mute and that was the end of the discussion. Later, I got married and my phone was full of contacts. I needed to delete some, and as I scrolled through, I saw some contacts that I believed were not useful, so I deleted them to free up phone space.
One day, my husband was transferred from work, where we were living to another town. When we got there, we knew nobody, so settling was kind of difficult heād go and come back by weekends.
One day, he had a work functions that I had to attend. On the occasion, this guy saw me but didnāt bother to call or talk to me because he felt I might neglect him. So, days after, he chatted me up and told me he saw me.
During our chat, explain to him that my husband was transferreddown to that town and we needed to relocate due to the nature of my job .I work with a private organization and have a lot of duties so it was difficult for all of us, even the children felt it.
That was how he told me he was an agent. He was a saviour, Iām sure without him, getting both the houses and the shop Iām using wouldāve been way harder. Agent consultations can drain you to nothing, I swear! But with him, things were a breeze. š So yeah, nobodyās uselessā¦ those we call "USELESS" might be useful sometimes. Letās just check on each other once in a while if its a phone call or chat.
