When my 12-year-old son, Ben, eagerly accepted our wealthy neighbor’s offer to shovel snow for $10 a day, he was excited to earn money and buy gifts for the family. His plan was simple: buy his mom a scarf, a dollhouse for his sister Annie, and save up for a telescope. Ben had always been hardworking and big-hearted, always looking for ways to help out and make others happy. Each morning, before school, he bundled up and shoveled snow from Mr. Dickinson’s driveway, excited about the little bit of independence he was gaining.
But just a few days before Christmas, Ben came home devastated. “Mr. Dickinson said he’s not paying me,” he said, tears streaming down his face. “He said it’s a lesson about contracts.” The shock in his voice was palpable, and my heart broke for him. After all the work he’d put in, all the promises made, to be met with such callousness felt cruel and unfair. Ben was crushed, and so was I.
Furious, I marched over to Mr. Dickinson’s house. I knocked on his door, hoping to get some sort of explanation, but he merely shrugged and repeated his excuse about teaching Ben a “lesson about contracts.” I was seething, but I kept my composure. With a smile that I’m sure didn’t reach my eyes, I said, “Enjoy your evening.” That night, I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened. I knew I had to do something, not just for Ben, but to show him that there are times when standing up for yourself is the most important lesson you can learn.
The next morning, my husband and I, along with Ben and Annie, set out to “right the wrong.” We shoveled snow from our own driveway and carefully piled it onto Mr. Dickinson’s. By mid-morning, his driveway was completely buried under a mountain of snow. It wasn’t just a little prank; it was a direct reflection of what Ben had done for him—now undone.
Mr. Dickinson stormed over in a fury, his face red with anger. “What have you done to my driveway?” he yelled.
I calmly replied, “It’s called quantum meruit. You didn’t pay Ben, so we undid his work. Fair’s fair, right?”
His face turned even more crimson, but he quickly realized that he had lost this round. That evening, he returned, sheepishly handing Ben $80—more than he owed—and apologized. Ben’s smile, filled with pride and relief, was priceless. I pulled him into a hug and said, “Thank you for showing me what real determination looks like.” In the end, it was Ben who taught me a valuable lesson about fairness, integrity, and standing up for what’s right.
