Children's Garden - Part 3: Failure

I have considered Froebel's concept of 'Kindergarten' and applied the act of weeding to the need for discipline within education, but how to we deal with failure? Why do some children never bloom? Why are some incapable of growth? Should we ever give up on a child, or ask for help?
I do not value interference in my garden.  It is something I do alone, and take pride in. On occasion I have  consulted the internet, or Google Photos for advice. I prefer to learn by observation.  Someone I know described it as "shotgun gardening", because if you shoot enough you'll eventually hit something.  I can relate: thinking that if I plant enough...

But a tree was growing up in the middle of my flowers.  It had to go, but I didn't have to tools necessary.  I had to call in my father-in-law with a tractor.  Similarly, as a new teacher, I was frustrated by a student whose needs where beyond my capabilities.  A wise supervisor quietly moved the boy into a more experienced teacher's class, and we were both able to make progress that year. We cannot be 'shotgun teachers'.  We can't afford to lose many along the way.  Specialists should be consulted more often and young teachers encouraged to ask for help.  When asking for help is seen as failure, then you are in the wrong school. I learned that the hard way.
I am an avid pruner.  I deadhead and cut back and remove anything past its prime. However, I am beginning to realize that all this pruning is more for my benefit.  It makes the garden looks neater, clears space for some more manmade features and gives me a sense of accomplishing something.  But not all pruning is good for the plant.
My hydrangea has never flowered.  I finally found out it is because of my pruning it too early in the spring. Apparently it needs to be just left alone, no matter how much the dead branches bother me.

 Not every plant needs my constant care. It is possible to overwater, overfeed and over-plant. I love the idea of finding an unhealthy looking plant on sale, repotting it and cutting off the dead bits.  Often the plant, despite my attentions, dies or refuses to grow. I probably would be better off letting it be for a bit, and attempting to find out its real needs.  Not every child needs me hovering over them, monitoring their every move. Independence needs to be nurtured, and children will learn to ask for what they need.
And I can't save every dying plant on the CLEARANCE rack.  Many have been through too much: forced to bloom too early, deprived of sunlight and space, and quickly discarded.  I am learning to appreciate them in whatever form they come in, broken or healthy, because the simple fact that they have life,.. gives me life.