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.”
After Mom’s Death, Woman Leaves Sister 3 Dollar Bills and a Note as Her Inheritance – Story of the Day
When Julia and Helga’s father passed away, Helga fought their mother, Mrs. Hanson, for the inheritance. She said some horrible things, and Julie and Mrs. Hanson came up with a shocking plan to teach her a huge lesson.
“HOW DARE YOU?” Helga screamed at her mother, Mrs. Hanson, over the phone. Julia heard the entire thing from the kitchen, even though her mother was using the telephone in the living room and it wasn’t on speakerphone. Julia’s sister was angry that her mother had decided her will.
She would leave Helga 30% of the estate, while Julia would receive everything else. It wasn’t an equal division, but Mrs. Hanson felt that Julia deserved the money more than Helga because they had a better relationship. Helga and her husband had always been greedy and selfish, visiting or calling them only when they wanted something.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
But the older woman was being generous. At first, Helga would not receive anything due to how she spoke to her mother. However, they recently had a set of twin babies at a relatively old age, as Helga was 47 and her husband was 51. Therefore, Mrs. Hanson decided to give her something. Unfortunately, Helga was not happy about it.
“Helga, please don’t yell,” Mrs. Hanson told her daughter on the phone and watched as Julia approached. She decided to put the call on speakerphone from then on.
“I knew you would see reason, Julia. Our mother was so obstinate.”
“MOTHER! You can’t just give everything to Julia! She doesn’t even have children. Don’t you care about the twins? They deserve their share of the money!” Helga exclaimed, not knowing that Julia was listening.
“Helga, it doesn’t matter whether Julia has kids or not. She sacrificed so much of her life to take care of your father and me, whereas you didn’t. Also, you’re married. You have a support system. On the other hand, this is my money, and I get to decide who receives it,” Mrs. Hanson reasoned. But this wasn’t the answer Helga wanted.
“I DON’T CARE WHAT JULIA HAS DONE! YOU KNOW WHAT? I CAN’T WAIT FOR YOU TO DIE, AND I’LL SUE FOR MY SHARE! GOODBYE!” Helga screamed spitefully and ended the call abruptly.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Mrs. Hanson placed her forehead on her hand and breathed deeply. Julia was finally angry, but she couldn’t show it. She couldn’t believe her sister would say something so horrible to their mother.
“Mom, she’s just angry. She didn’t mean that,” lied Julia to console her mother, but Mrs. Hanson knew the truth. Helga meant it and would fight tooth and nail for a more significant share in the will. Luckily, their lawyer in Washington D.C. told them that as long as Helga received something, she wouldn’t be able to contest it.
Over the next few months, Helga called several times to persuade Mrs. Hanson to change her will. These conversations always ended in huge fights that took a serious toll on the older woman, and Julia became even angrier at her sister.
Finally, their mother died, and Helga made a scene at the funeral, pretending to be in so much distress over her passing. Fortunately, most relatives knew her real character, although they didn’t know how awful she had been during the last few months of Mrs. Hanson’s life.
After the funeral, Helga started calling Julia about the money. They both received their share, but it seemed like her sister was now going to be nasty to Julia until she complied and gave her some more money.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Finally, Julia came up with a plan. During one phone call, she revealed her idea to Helga. “Ok, listen. I want to move to New York, so I’m going to sell Mom’s house for good. I’ll give you 50% of the sale, although the house is in my name. Does this seem fair?” she asked her sister.
“Oh, that’s fantastic, Julia! Thank you! I knew you would see reason. Our mother was so obstinate. You’re the best aunt to the twins ever. I swear this is all for their future,” Helga gushed over the phone. Julia didn’t know if she was genuinely planning on putting the money towards her children, but it didn’t matter because Julia was lying.
The sale of the house went quickly because it was located in a pretty great area of the capital, and there were tons of buyers. Helga was salivating at the idea of receiving half of the house sale. Julia thought she didn’t deserve it at all.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Ok, I’m going to place your part of the money in a bank account, and I’ll send you the details later. Is that alright?” Julia asked her sister when they had coffee right before she left for New York.
“Of course! Of course! Though, I’m going to miss you so much!” Helga said with a smile that Julia didn’t trust at all.
“Cool, well, goodbye,” Julia replied, standing up and giving her sister the most awkward hug in the world. But Helga placed all her acting chops on the embrace, pretending like she was indeed going to miss her sister.
A week after Julia left the state, she finally sent her sister the details to the safety deposit box.
“Your sister couldn’t just wire the money to our account?” Helga’s husband asked, thinking this procedure odd.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“She’s an idiot. You know that. I’ll go to the bank right now and check things out,” Helga responded, smiling cattily.
But at the bank, she was taken to the safety deposit box and saw three $1 bills inside it. “That’s all?” she asked aloud and finally noticed the note inside next to the bills. It read: “That’s all you deserve.”
Helga’s screams and cries were heard through the entire bank that day. But Julia had blocked her, and they never saw each other again.
What can we learn from this story?
- Greediness leads to nothing. Helga treated everyone horribly and only wanted money. She received nothing in the end.
- Follow your relative’s wishes. Although Helga pestered her terribly, Julia didn’t want to go against her mother’s desires.
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