Greed led my father-in-law to cause a ruckus in a restaurant, leaving tension and strife in his wake. However, little did he know that his ego was about to be humbled when an unexpected twist arose from the karma of his actions. What started as a man trying to get his way turned into him learning a valuable life lesson that had continually eluded him.
At the risk of sounding overly dramatic, I’ve always believed in karma. You know, the idea that what goes around, comes around. But never in my wildest dreams did I expect to witness it unfold so vividly and immediately as it did one evening with my father-in-law (FIL), Benjamin.
This man, bless his heart, operates under the assumption that the universe, with all its cosmic might, revolves around him and is essentially supposed to cater to all his needs and wants. And on this particular day, karma decided to give him a reality check.
Let me paint the picture: My husband, Sam, and I, Linda, were dining out with him at a local restaurant Benjamin claimed to be the “best in the state.” He’s the kind of guy who orders as if preparing for an impending food shortage—four burgers, fries, the works!
As our patient waiter returned to the kitchen after bringing us our food, my FIL discreetly set aside one burger, a minor detail that would later unravel into an epic tale of instant karma.
We watched in shock as Benjamin erupted like a volcano at the returning waiter, disbelief and indignation painting his face upon realizing there was a “missing” burger. “I ordered four burgers. Why are there only three?!” he bellowed across the table, attracting unwanted attention.
The waiter, a paragon of patience, politely assured him, “I made sure I put them all in the bag, sir.”
“Are you blind?! This is only three!” His voice, dripping with condescension, cut through the hum of restaurant chatter.
At this point, I was ready to say something to defend this poor woman who was just trying to do her job, but my husband knew his father would just turn his fake rage on me and make a bigger scene. So, knowing I couldn’t stand for anyone being mistreated, he grabbed my hand lightly to urge me not to say anything.
I trust Sam’s instincts, especially when it comes to his father, so I pulled back and settled into my chair, watching the drama unfold.
Seeing that Benjamin was one of those unreasonable consumers who believed they were always right, the waiter apologized. She said, “Sorry, Sir. I’ll get you another one,” even though it was clear from her reaction that she was quite certain she’d brought all four.
The innocent woman walked away to get a fifth burger for my greedy FIL, and we sat looking at him with disgust but chose to say nothing to avoid inflaming the situation further. The waiter’s solution seemed to satisfy Benjamin momentarily, his smirk spreading across his face like a dark cloud.
Little did he know, the universe was about to serve him a HUGE slice of humble pie!
Fast forward to our arrival home, and the smugness quickly faded into sheer panic. My FIL’s face turned white as a sheet when he realized his wallet was missing! The atmosphere thickened with tension as he frantically searched, his mind racing back to the restaurant.
My husband and I exchanged knowing glances, the air heavy with unspoken thoughts.
In a twist of fate, my FIL, driven by desperation, called the restaurant, only to have the same waiter answer! The calm in her voice as she confirmed finding his wallet was almost palpable! But there was a major twist to the news he hadn’t expected…
The waiter informed him that the restaurant had a peculiar policy, one my FIL had always ridiculed on the walls and menus of the establishment, stating that any lost items unclaimed within an hour would be donated to charity
The realization hit him like a freight train! He quickly dropped the call and filled us in, “I think they gave away all my money, we need to go back!” I am not going to lie, seeing him all distressed and panicky left me feeling like justice was served, but it was only the beginning!
We rushed back to the restaurant, only to be met with the ultimate irony. The waiter, now wearing a grin of victory, handed him an envelope from the charity organization, thanking him for his “generous donation,” before pouring him a “complimentary drink.”
Inside were receipts detailing how the money from his wallet provided meals for several homeless individuals that evening!
Silence enveloped him, a rare moment of humility overtaking the usual pomp and bluster. My husband took this moment to gently address his father’s behavior, igniting a heartfelt discussion about respect, gratitude, and the ripple effect of our actions.
“Dad, you know what you did to that waiter was wrong, and it’s probably why you forgot your wallet at the restaurant,” he told him when we got to the safety of the car. “You always have this idea that you can do anything you want and there won’t be consequences,” Sam continued.
With tears in his eyes, he added, “You know that’s part of the reason why Mom isn’t with us today.”
What my husband was referring to was how Benjamin ended up living with us because his wife, Sam’s mother, divorced him and took everything. My FIL repeatedly cheated on Diana, a sweet and loving woman who would’ve given the world to Benjamin.
When she finally got tired of his entitlement, she took him to the cleaners in court, sharing a folder and footage of years of private investigations she’d done on her husband to prove his guilt. She’d known throughout his marriage about his infidelity but only confronted him once or twice, where he pompously told her
However, he definitely “answered” to her when she filed for divorce and won everything before selling it all and relocating to another country. Only Sam and I had contact with her via texts and sometimes video calls.
It was a painful yet cathartic experience for all, especially for my FIL, who had never acknowledged facing the consequences of his entitlement in such a direct and immediate way. The incident at the restaurant and Sam’s heartfelt confrontation marked a turning point, not just for my FIL but for our family as a whole.
The lesson from karma was a clear and profound one that led the man who once embodied entitlement and arrogance to vow to change. He began a journey of volunteering and connection with those he had overlooked—the homeless people who’d benefited from his loss.
Our family dinners, once tense affairs, transformed into sessions of meaningful conversation and laughter. My FIL, previously the source of strife, became the catalyst for unity, embodying the transformative power of kindness and empathy.
So, there it is: A story of how a misplaced wallet and a “missing” burger taught us all the invaluable lesson that no act of kindness, no matter how small, goes unnoticed by the universe. Karma, in its most poetic form, reminded us that humility and compassion pave the path to true fulfillment. And for my FIL, it was a lesson learned not a moment too late.
While Linda’s story about how karma finally knocked some sense into her FIL shows how sometimes it takes time for people to get the message, here’s another story that will make you halt before doing something stupid that you’ll regret later.
Sarah’s Story about Bad Karma against Her Dad That Will Make You Think Twice before Acting Out
In a classic tale of dinner drama turned karma jackpot, a Reddit user, let’s call him John, recounts a meal out with his then-fiancée, Sarah, and her less-than-stellar dad. Picture this: a cozy restaurant scene, our couple, and the dad who’s had a history of favoring his new family over Sarah.
As the night winds down, Dad offers to foot the bill, a gesture that seems nice until Sarah’s request for a to-go box for her leftovers sparks his snide remark about wasted fridge space. John, ever the knight in shining armor, steps in,
But, oh, does that ruffle Dad’s feathers! He throws a fit, tossing the bill at John and storming out with a dramatic “FINE!” Poor Sarah’s caught in the middle, upset at John for stirring the pot. Now, here’s where the universe decides to spice things up.
While waiting for the bill, tensions high and Dad lurking outside, the waiter reveals they’re in the middle of an “every bill’s a winner” contest. Usually, it’s a free drink or appetizer on the line, but not tonight. Tonight, John and Sarah hit the jackpot – a trip for four to sunny Florida, all because karma decided Dad’s departure was the perfect moment for a grand prize win!And so, our couple learns that sometimes, standing up for your loved ones not only brings you closer but might just land you a vacation in the process. As for Dad, well, let’s hope he’s learned something about kindness and maybe, just maybe, he’ll get a postcard from Florida. For those enjoying the swiftness of karma, there are four more stories like Sarah’s included here!
3 Stories of People Who Became Homeless During Hard Times
“That’s the problem, Amber!” he retorted. “I’m tired of all the responsibilities. I need time for myself. I’ve found someone who gets what I’m going through!”
That night, as he walked out, I just fell apart. Once Louis was gone, reality hit me hard. I struggled to find a job while taking care of Allen alone.
Two weeks later, our landlady evicted us as I couldn’t pay the rent, and Social Services took Allen.
That night, I was homeless and heartbroken. My baby, my child, was taken away from me.
I sold everything I had, including my phone, and that kept me going for a while. Then, the money ran out.
One evening, out in the cold, I remembered my dad’s warnings about Louis. “He’s not right for you,” Dad had said. I wish I’d listened. Desperate to reconnect with him, I decided to buy a phone to call him.I knew that if I borrowed a phone to call him, maybe he wouldn’t pick up the first time or even the second. But I’d have to keep trying….
I starved myself for a week to save enough to buy a second-hand phone. My tears didn’t stop when I dialed Dad’s number.
“Hello?” he asked.
“It’s… Amber, Dad,” I sobbed into the phone.
“Amber, sweetheart! Is that you? Oh God! How are things going?”
“I need your help, dad!”
“Is-Is everything okay?”
“Just come as soon as possible, Dad!” I said.
He arrived quickly. In a hotel room, I poured out my heart about the betrayal and my days on the streets. Dad comforted me.
The next day, Dad and I went to the orphanage to start the paperwork to bring Allen home. Once everything was finalized, Dad took Allen and me to New York.
He also hired a private detective to find out where Louis was. It turned out Louis had been cheating on me with his boss’s daughter.
When his boss found out the truth — that Louis was married and had abandoned his family — he fired him. Louis ended up living on the streets. It felt like justice was done.
Back home, with my dad and Allen, I felt stronger. Life had knocked me down but taught me resilience. And with Dad’s support, I knew we could face anything ahead.
Coming up next is Brandon’s story, a homeless man and father of 3 living in a tent. One day, he decided to help a stranger, ignoring his own needs, and his life was never the same again.
2. Brandon: I Gave My Last $2 to a Stranger at a Gas Station, the Next Day I Inherited His Company
Four months on the streets with my three kids taught me a lot about life’s harshness and the small acts of kindness that can keep hope alive.
We lived in a tent near a gas station, a makeshift home barely shielding us from the cold. It was tough, but we managed to find moments of joy, making the best of it.
One chilly morning, as I counted the few coins I had left, I decided to head into the gas station to buy a can of beans — our planned dinner for the evening.
Inside, I stumbled upon a scene that jolted my heart. An elderly man stood at the counter, confusion written all over his face.
“I’m sorry, young lady, what did you say about the water being funny?” he asked.
“I said you don’t have enough money, sir!” the cashier snapped.
“Yes, it is a sunny day!” he replied.
Suddenly, some young man in line grabbed the elderly man, yelling, “You need more cash!”
Watching this, my heart sank. The elderly man just wanted a bottle of water to take his pills, but his request for an affordable bottle was met with hostility. “If you can’t afford to pay, you’ll have to go!” the cashier shouted.
I couldn’t stand idly by. Stepping forward, I emptied my cup of change onto the counter. “Have a heart, lady,” I said, deciding to pay for the man’s water.
The cashier counted the money with distaste. “That’ll cover it,” she muttered. I left the can of beans and handed the water to the elderly man.
“Here you go, sir,” I spoke clearly, making sure he could read my lips.
“Why did you help me when you needed the money?” he asked me as we left the store, noticing my tent with kids nearby.
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being homeless, it’s that the world works when people are kind to each other,” I explained.
“But what are your kids going to eat?” he questioned.
“There’s a chance I’ll find some scraps at the fast food joint across the street,” I assured him.
The next morning, two jeeps parked near our tent, and a man in a fancy suit stepped out.
“Mr. Grives’ last wish was for me to deliver this to you,” he said. There was a letter offering me the inheritance of his business.
“Is it a joke?” I asked in shock.
The man handed me legal documents. With a mix of apprehension and hope, I signed the papers. This could be the break my children and I needed, a chance to escape the streets.
We were driven to a huge mansion. “Can we put up a tent under that tree with pink flowers?” my youngest, Derrick, asked innocently.
“We’re going to live inside that house, silly! Right, Dad?” my daughter Kelly chimed in.
As I nodded, the reality of our new life began to sink in. Yet, the moment I opened the doors, something was wrong. The house was in disarray — someone had been there.
“We’ve examined the entire perimeter of the house and found no sign of forced entry, sir,” the officer reported after I called 911.
That evening, I got an anonymous call. In a robotic yet menacing tone, the voice told me I had 24 hours to decline all that Mr. Grives’ left me, leave the house, or else I would lose everything I love.
The mansion came with Mr. Grives’ loyal staff, and one of them warned me that this could be the doing of Mr. Grives’ eldest son, Christopher. I resolved to go to the cops in the morning.
But in the morning, my kids were vanished! Although the clever perpetrator had managed to hide his face from most of the CCTVs in and around the house, there was one he didn’t know about.
Mr. Grives’ staff watched in horror as they recognized the leader of three thugs drugging my children. It was Christopher.
From there on, the cops put everyone on the task of tracking Christopher, and didn’t rest until later that afternoon, when Christopher were spotted on the border of the state with my kids in the back of an old van.
Christopher was arrested, and my children were safe. But their fear had set in deep, and I had a choice to make: to heal and embrace the gift that kind soul left us, or to walk away, rebuilding from the start.
“Daddy, are we going to leave our home again?” Kelly’s question broke my heart.
I wrapped my arms around them. “We’re going to be okay. You want to know why?”
“IBecause the most valuable thing we have is right here, in my arms. So long as we stick together, we’ll always be rich in the most important way: love.”
While Brandon was blessed with children who understand the value of kindness and love, Mr. Greg wasn’t. Coming up next is his story.
3. Mr. Greg: My Teen Daughter Humiliated the Homeless, I Had to Teach Her a Lesson
I always thought I was doing right things for my daughter, Jane. I made sure she had everything she needed, but I missed teaching her something crucial — compassion for others. This hit me hard a few days ago when I lost my wallet.
After a fruitless search, I returned home to find Jane mocking a homeless man and his daughter at our doorstep. The shock set in when the man handed me my wallet, untouched. I was moved by that man’s gesture.
But Jane dismissively called them “trash,” and spoke to them with so much disgust…it broke my heart. I knew I had to fix this.
That evening, I invited the man, Mark, and his daughter for dinner. It was my chance to teach Jane about generosity.
“Dad, check the money! He probably stole it!” Jane said as I checked my wallet. Everything was there.
“All the money is here, sweetie. You’re mistaken,” I told her.
Seeing Mark’s and Lolita’s discomfort, I invited them to stay for dinner.
“Why don’t you guys join us?” I said. “It’s the least I can do to thank you.”
During dinner, Jane gave them paper plates instead of proper dishes.
“Why not use the nice dishes I got you for your birthday?” I suggested.
As we ate, I encouraged Mark to share his story, but Jane kept interrupting with rude comments. Eventually, I lost my patience.
“Shut your mouth, Jane!” I snapped. “You don’t know nothing. Misfortune could strike anyone.”
I then revealed a painful truth to Jane. “It’s my fault. I worked too much, especially after your mother passed. We were the same once,” I confessed. “Do you remember our ‘camping trips’? We were actually homeless.”
Jane was stunned. “How did we get back on our feet?”
“A kind man gave me a job. That changed our lives,” I said with a sigh.
Then, I looked at Mark. “And now, it’s my turn to pay it forward,” I told him.
Mark nodded. “All I did was what a decent human should do,” he said.
“I had no idea, Dad. I’m sorry,” Jane said after a pause.
“It’s okay, honey. It’s not too late to learn from this,” I told her.
When it was time for Mark and Lolita to go, I suggested, “Why don’t you both stay the night? We have plenty of room, and it’s getting late.”
Mark hesitated, then gratefully accepted. “Thank you, Greg. This means a lot.”
But I knew I wasn’t done helping them. Offering them a night’s shelter would not alleviate their problems. So I made a decision.
A little kindness costs nothing, guys, and I was ready to make sure that little Lolita and her dad had a good life.
The next day, I offered Mark a job as a driver and arranged a temporary home for them. “And I’ll help you until you’re back on your feet,” I promised.
“Oh, Really?” Mark gasped. “Nobody is this kind nowadays! I won’t let you down, sir,” Mark told me in tears. “Thank you so much!”
The smile on Lolita’s face that day made me realize I’d done the right thing. As for Jane…my Janie changed. She became a better person, and I’m so glad for that.
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