When my 12-year-old son, Ben, agreed to shovel snow for our wealthy neighbor, Mr. Dickinson, for $10 a day, he was excited. His plan was to earn enough money to buy gifts for our family. But when he finished the work, Mr. Dickinson refused to pay, saying it was a lesson about contracts. Ben was devastated.
Ben had always been hardworking. He was proud of his plan, and when he told me he wanted to buy a scarf for me and a dollhouse for Annie, I was touched. For weeks, he shoveled Mr. Dickinson’s driveway, working in the cold with a big smile on his face.
But one day, Ben came home upset. “Mr. Dickinson won’t pay me,” he said. “He says I didn’t have a contract.” I could see how hurt he was. I told him, “You did everything right. This is on him, not you. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of this.”
I went straight to Mr. Dickinson’s house. He answered the door with a wine glass in hand, looking pleased with himself. “No contract, no payment,” he said, like he had all the power. I knew talking to him wouldn’t work, but I wasn’t giving up.
The next morning, I woke up my family early. “We’re going to fix this,” I told them. We went outside to shovel snow, but instead of clearing our driveway, we moved it all onto Mr. Dickinson’s driveway. It was hard work, but it felt good. Ben smiled as he helped. Little Annie played too, pushing tiny piles of snow with her toy shovel.
By late morning, Mr. Dickinson’s driveway was covered with a huge mound of snow. When he saw it, he came outside, furious. I calmly told him, “If you won’t pay for Ben’s work, you don’t get to enjoy it.” Neighbors were watching, and I knew he couldn’t argue.
That evening, Mr. Dickinson showed up with an envelope. He didn’t say much, just handed it to me and mumbled, “Tell your son I’m sorry.” Inside was $80 in cash. Ben smiled, his face lighting up. “Thanks, Mom,” he said. I hugged him back. “No,” I said, “thank you for teaching me what real determination looks like.”
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