When my 12-year-old son Ben took up our wealthy neighbor’s offer to shovel snow for $10 a day, he couldn’t wait to buy gifts for the family. But when that man refused to pay, calling it a “lesson about contracts,” Ben was heartbroken. That’s when I decided to teach him a lesson he’d never forget.
I’d always known my son Ben had a bigger heart than the world seemed to deserve. He was only 12 but carried a determination that could humble men twice his age.
A boy carrying many books | Source: Midjourney
Even so, I never imagined I’d be standing in the icy driveway next to my husband, exacting revenge against the man who thought cheating a child was just another business move.
It all began on a snowy morning early in December. Ben was buzzing with excitement after shoveling the driveway while I made breakfast. He burst into the kitchen, cheeks flushed from the cold.
“Mom, Mr. Dickinson said he’ll pay me $10 every time I shovel his driveway!” His grin stretched ear to ear.
A smiling boy | Source: Midjourney
Mr. Dickinson, our neighbor, was as insufferable as he was wealthy. He always bragged about his business ventures and showed off his luxury toys.
It wasn’t hard to guess he thought he was doing us all a favor by letting Ben “earn” his money. Still, Ben’s excitement was contagious, and I wasn’t about to crush his enthusiasm.
“That’s wonderful, sweetheart,” I said, ruffling his hair. “What’s the plan for all this cash?”
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
“I’m buying you a scarf,” he said with the seriousness only a 12-year-old could muster. “And a dollhouse for Annie.”
His eyes sparkled as he described every detail of the red scarf with tiny snowflakes, and the dollhouse with working lights that Annie had been obsessed with since she saw it in the toy store’s window display.
My heart swelled. “You’ve got it all planned out, huh?”
A happy woman | Source: Midjourney
He nodded, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “And I’m saving what’s left for a telescope.”
Over the next few weeks, Ben became a blur of determination. Every morning before school, he bundled up in his oversized coat and boots, a knit hat pulled low over his ears. From the kitchen window, I watched him disappear into the frosty air, shovel in hand.
The muffled scrape of metal on the pavement echoed through the stillness.
A boy shoveling snow | Source: Midjourney
Sometimes he’d stop to catch his breath, leaning on the shovel, his breath forming little clouds in the freezing air. When he came inside, his cheeks were red, his fingers stiff, but his smile always shone through.
“How was it today?” I’d ask, handing him a cup of hot chocolate.
“Good! I’m getting faster,” he’d reply, his grin lighting up the room. He’d shake snow off his coat like a dog shedding water, sending damp clumps onto the rug.
A rug in an entrance hall | Source: Pexels
Each evening, Ben would sit at the kitchen table, tallying his earnings. The notepad he used was dog-eared and smudged with ink, but he treated it like a sacred ledger.
“Only 20 more dollars, Mom,” he said one night. “Then I can get the dollhouse and the telescope!”
His excitement made the hard work seem worth it, at least to him.
By December 23rd, Ben was a well-oiled machine of winter labor.
A person shoveling snow | Source: Pexels
That morning, he left the house humming a Christmas carol. I went about my day, expecting him to return as usual, tired but triumphant.
But when the door slammed open an hour later, I knew something was wrong.
“Ben?” I called out, rushing from the kitchen.
He stood by the door, his boots half-on, his gloves still clenched in his trembling hands. His shoulders heaved, and tears clung to the corners of his wide, panicked eyes.
A sad boy | Source: Midjourney
I kneeled beside him, gripping his arms. “Sweetheart, what happened?”
He wouldn’t talk at first, but eventually, he told me everything.
“Mr. Dickinson… he said he’s not paying me a single cent.”
The words hung in the air, heavy as a stone.
“What do you mean, he’s not paying you?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
Ben sniffled, his face crumpling.
A boy sobbing | Source: Midjourney
“He said it’s a lesson. That I should never accept a job without a contract.” His voice cracked, and the tears spilled over. “Mom, I worked so hard. I just don’t understand. Why would he do this?”
Anger surged through me, sharp and blinding. What kind of person cheats a child as a “business lesson”? I pulled Ben into a hug, pressing my hand against his damp hat.
“Oh, baby,” I murmured. “It’s not your fault. You did everything right. This is on him, not you.” I pulled back, brushing his hair from his face. “You don’t worry about this, okay? I’ll take care of it.”
A determined woman | Source: Midjourney
I stood, grabbed my coat, and stormed across the lawn. The sight of Dickinson’s house, glowing with holiday cheer, only stoked my fury. Laughter and music spilled into the cold night as I rang the doorbell.
He appeared moments later, wine glass in hand, his tailored suit making him look like a villain straight out of a bad movie.
“Mrs. Carter,” he said, his voice oozing false charm. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
A man raising one eyebrow | Source: Midjourney
“I think you know why I’m here,” I said evenly. “Ben earned that money. You owe him $80. Pay him.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “No contract, no payment. That’s how the real world works.”
I clenched my fists, willing myself to stay calm. I opened my mouth to argue about fairness and the cruelty of his supposed lesson, but the look in his eyes told me none of that would persuade him to do the right thing.
A man staring ahead | Source: Midjourney
No… there was only one way to deal with the Mr. Dickinsons of the world.
“You’re absolutely right, Mr. Dickinson. The real world is about holding people accountable.” My smile was so sweet it could’ve rotted teeth. “Enjoy your evening.”
As I walked away, an idea began to form. By the time I stepped back into our house, I knew exactly what had to be done.
A furious woman | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, while Dickinson and his guests still slept, I woke the household with a determined clap of my hands.
“Time to go, team,” I said.
Ben groaned as he crawled out of bed, but caught the determined gleam in my eye. “What are we doing, Mom?”
“We’re righting a wrong.”
A determined woman | Source: Midjourney
Outside, the air was bitter and still. My husband started the snowblower, the rumble cutting through the early quiet. Ben grabbed his shovel, gripping it like a sword. Even Annie, too small for the heavy work, bounced along in her boots, ready to “help.”
We began with our driveway, then moved to the sidewalk, clearing paths for the neighbors. The pile of snow grew steadily as we pushed it all toward Dickinson’s pristine driveway.
The cold bit at my fingers, but the satisfaction of each shovelful fueled me.
A person shoveling snow | Source: Pexels
Ben paused to catch his breath, leaning on his shovel. “This is a lot of snow, Mom,” he said, a smile creeping onto his face.
“That’s the point, honey,” I said, piling another scoop onto the growing mountain. “Think of it as a reverse Christmas miracle.”
Annie giggled as she pushed tiny mounds of snow with her toy shovel. “Mr. Grumpy’s not going to like this,” she chirped.
By mid-morning, Dickinson’s driveway was buried under a fortress of snow.
A huge pile of snow in a driveway | Source: Midjourney
It was higher than the hood of Dickinson’s sleek black car. I dusted off my gloves, stepping back to admire our handiwork.
“That,” I said, “is a job well done.”
It wasn’t long before he noticed. Soon, Dickinson stormed over, his face as red as the Christmas lights on his roof.
“What the hell have you done to my driveway?” he bellowed.
A man shouting at someone | Source: Midjourney
I stepped outside, brushing off my gloves like I had all the time in the world. “Oh, Mr. Dickinson, this is a little something called quantum meruit.”
“Quantum what?” His eyes narrowed, his confusion almost comical.
“It’s a legal concept,” I explained with a smile. “It means if you refuse to pay for someone’s labor, you lose the right to enjoy the benefit of it. Since you didn’t pay Ben, we simply undid his work. Fair’s fair, wouldn’t you agree?”
A woman glancing to one side | Source: Midjourney
Dickinson sputtered, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “You can’t do that!”
I gestured toward the neighbors who had gathered to watch, their smiles thinly veiled. “Actually, I can. And if you’d like to call a lawyer, keep in mind that I have plenty of witnesses who saw you exploit a minor for free labor. That wouldn’t look great for someone like you, now would it?”
He glared at me, then at the crowd, realizing he’d lost. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stomped back to his house.
A house decorated for Christmas | Source: Pexels
By evening, the doorbell rang again, and there stood Dickinson, holding an envelope. He didn’t look me in the eye as he handed it over.
“Tell your son I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
I closed the door and handed the envelope to Ben. Inside were eight crisp $10 bills. Ben’s smile was worth more than all the money in the world.
Cash in an envelope | Source: Pexels
“Thanks, Mom,” he said, hugging me tight.
“No,” I whispered, ruffling his hair. “Thank you for showing me what real determination looks like.”
Here’s another story: When I arrived at the hospital to bring home my wife and newborn twins, I was met with heartbreak: Suzie was gone, leaving only a cryptic note. As I juggled caring for the babies and unraveling the truth, I discovered the dark secrets that tore my family apart.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
After 27 hours, his wife gave birth to a baby girl, and the man received the news that caused him to fall to his knees.
This is a love story that is equally lovely and painful. When they first met, fell in love, and had a kid, Liz passed away in childbirth. Matt’s actions following her passing were really inspiring.
High school students Liz Goodman and Matt Logelin first crossed paths at a gas station one sunny afternoon. Both of them were raised in Minnetonka, Minnesota, but their chance encounter marked the beginning of a real love story.
Senior year of high school was when Liz and Matt met. Fireworks sparked when she walked up to Matt after he caught her eye; the two became inseparable… up till the start of college.
As graduation drew near, the high school sweethearts had to face the fact that they were attending colleges in different parts of the country! In contrast to Matt, who remained at the University of Minnesota, Liz was traveling to California.
For this couple, who persisted and stuck together throughout their studies, the distance was nothing. Matt continued on to get his master’s degree at Loyola University of Chicago. He was contemplating getting a Ph.D. when he realized he needed to follow his heart and not his mind.
Matt was aware that he could no longer stand to be so far from his love. In order to be with Liz, he moved halfway across the nation to Los Angeles in 2005, packing his stuff.
From then on, the two proceeded to enjoy their lives to the utmost. While traveling, Liz and Matt explored new places, made memories, and deepened their understanding of one another and the world they lived in. It was just a matter of time until Matt realized that this was it and got down on one knee in Nepal to ask Liz to marry him.
In front of their friends and family, they exchanged vows to love one another forever on August 13, 2005. Seeing these lovers grab life and their love by the horns was exhilarating. For the young couple, everything seems to be going great.
They were not just happier than ever in their romantic relationships, but also in their professional lives. Liz worked as a financial professional at Disney, while Matt was a project manager at Yahoo! in California. The two decided to buy a house jointly to take advantage of their newly discovered financial security. From then, everything just got better.
After two years of marriage in 2007, the couple decided to grow their family, and they were thrilled to find out Liz was carrying their first child!
Since many of Liz and Matt’s friends and family members reside in Minnesota, they were unable to accompany them on their amazing journey to parenthood. The soon-to-be parents made the decision to take action and launched a blog to inform their loved ones of Liz’s pregnancy progress.
The journey appeared bright and joyful for the happy couple as they anticipated their first child, but Liz had a tough pregnancy. The doctors advised her to spend a few weeks in bed since she had excruciating morning sickness.
Matt kept a close eye on her since he was anxious about his wife carrying his child. It was distressing to see Liz, who is often active and energetic, confined to her bed. After that, she was taken to the hospital and told to stay in bed for a few more weeks. Matt monitored their newly launched blog about being pregnant throughout the entire incident. He had no clue what he would soon publish on that specific website.
Since Liz’s pregnancy was considered high risk, she was brought to the delivery room twice, each time at least 7 weeks early owing to false alarms. The doctors kept a careful eye on her since they didn’t want to take any chances.
The baby’s arrival into the world was finally ready. Liz was still two months early, necessitating an urgent C-section. The lives of Matt and Liz Logelin were about to undergo a significant change on March 24, 2008.
The couple welcomed Madeline (Maddy) Logelin into their family after the surgery proceeded without a problem. When she was born, she weighed barely 3 pounds, 14 ounces. Since the new parents were thrilled, Liz only had a brief opportunity to see their beautiful baby girl (photographed). The medical workers hastened to get her to the newborn critical care unit since she was born early.
Due to Liz needing to be kept under observation for a further 24 hours after giving birth, she was unable to hold their daughter straight away. Once everything was through, Liz was prepared and eager to meet her baby girl who was now awake and well. She started to ride in a wheelchair to the ward.
Matt couldn’t wait to have both of his girls in his arms, so he was there to assist his wife in their stroll around the room before they entered the ward. They were about to have the mother-child quality time they had all been looking forward to. Disaster then struck.
When his wife slouched in his arms and muttered, “I feel light-headed,” Matt gently and tenderly helped her into the wheelchair. In an effort to calm Matt, the nurses explained that it was common for women to faint after giving birth.
Matt patiently recalled, “All of a sudden, there’s this ‘code blue,’ and people are running by me.” He broke down in tears. She would never be able to hold her kid since she would pass away in this hospital that day.
Only 27 hours, or slightly more than a day after giving birth to their daughter Madeline, doctors learned that a deadly clot had gone to Liz’s lungs and caused a rare, fatal pulmonary embolism. Liz passed away at the young age of 30, only hours after giving birth to a child, from a fatal embolism. Matt was left a widower one day after becoming a parent.
In only one day, Matt went from feeling on top of the world to fearing for his life. He was devastated. The pregnancy blog was meant to be filled with images of the growing family, but instead, his subsequent essay was only about melancholy.
The first several weeks were the worst Matt had ever experienced. Every Tuesday at exactly 3:11 p.m., his thoughts would return to that fateful moment when his life changed irrevocably because he couldn’t bear to take off his wedding ring. At times, he openly questioned how he would manage in his new life without Liz at his side.
There were challenges in getting back home. There were sour reminders of Liz everywhere Matt turned. When guests asked about the baby’s mother, Matt would frank and openly reply, “She passed on the day after the kid was born,”. Even leaving the house was tough.
The only consolation Matt felt in those early days as a widower was the knowledge that his young daughter needed him and the notion that a portion of his cherished wife lived on in Madeline.
Matt was determined that he would give his daughter the finest upbringing possible despite his sadness. He’s seeking for a way to express his feelings of dread and anguish. He started posting on a parenting discussion board hosted by his hometown newspaper, The Minnesota Star Tribune. But it didn’t end there.
Maddy Logelin turned 10 years old on March 24th, 2018. Ten years had passed since her mother Liz’s terrible death at the same anniversary. Her father, family, and friends have done all in their can to encircle her with love and happiness despite her horrific history.
Matt has made his blog’s details more private as Maddy has aged. The instant Madeline shouts “stop,” it is over. “The plug will be pulled,” he would always guarantee. Over the years, Maddy has learned about her mother via stories and pictures, and her interest in her has only increased.
One day she naively questioned, “Daddy, did you grasp my mommy’s hand when she died?” She frequently asks her father questions about the activities he and her late mother used to do
Despite his best efforts to be honest and explain things to his little daughter, Matt remarked, “What I said will never take away what happened that day.” After the talk, Maddy remarked, “Daddy, I love you,” which Matt later said she understood precisely what he needed to hear. I also love you, Maddy,” he said.
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