My neighbor once asked my twelve-year-old son to shovel snow for ten dollars a day.
Right before Christmas, he refused to pay—and called it a “business lesson.”
I made sure he learned one too.
Mr. Dickinson loves reminding everyone how successful he is. Luxury SUV, loud opinions about money, constant lectures about “how business works.” So when he offered my son Ben ten dollars for every snowfall, it sounded harmless.
Ben was thrilled. He planned Christmas gifts, counted imaginary earnings, and ran outside before sunrise every time it snowed. He worked hard—no shortcuts, no complaints.
“He’s paying me all at once,” Ben said. “Easier that way.”
Two days before Christmas, Ben came home silent. I found him crying on his bed.
“Mr. Dickinson said he’s not paying me,” he whispered. “He said it’s a business lesson—that I shouldn’t work without a contract.”
I held my son and told him the truth: This wasn’t his fault.
That night, I confronted Mr. Dickinson. He shrugged. “Relax. It’s not much money.”
That’s when I understood—men like him don’t respond to anger. They respond to consequences.
So I made calls. I spoke to neighbors. I left a calm, factual review online explaining how he refused to pay a child for work. I asked questions about unpaid labor and minors.
By evening, my phone rang.
“I’ll pay him,” Mr. Dickinson said tightly. “Cash.”
“Plus an apology,” I replied. “In person.”
He showed up with an envelope and did exactly that.
After he left, Ben looked at me and asked, “Is that a business lesson?”
“No,” I said. “That’s a life lesson. Your work matters.”
And now it shows.
