If I was to have a conversation with Elisa in the story, “The Chrysanthemums,” I would forewarn her that there is a man in a wagon wandering the back roads that has been known to finagle possessions from unsuspecting people. I would tell her this in the hopes that her spirit would not get crushed later on. Then, when he did stop at her house she would politely tell him no thanks and he would move along. She wouldn’t have to listen to him tell lies about her perfect chrysanthemums and she wouldn’t pour her heart into explaining the complexity of her proudest accomplishment. She wouldn’t have to see her chrysanthemums, the symbol of her femininity, lying unappreciated on the dusty, dirty road.
I would also tell her that is worth more than just her flowers and that if she put as much time, thought, and passion into every aspect of her life instead of just her flowers she could be a very happy woman.
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