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!
I Bought Food for a Homeless Man, He Stunned Me with His Confession the Next Day
I bought a warm meal for a homeless man, thinking it was just a small gesture of kindness. But when he found me the next day with his eyes full of tears and a confession that broke my heart, I realized how powerful even the smallest acts of compassion can be.
They say a little act of kindness goes a long way. But when I decided to help a hungry homeless man one day, I wasn’t prepared for the heart-wrenching encounter that followed less than 24 hours later. This stranger I helped with food made a confession that brought me to tears and reminded me why some people cross our paths when we least expect it.
A sad homeless man asking for help | Source: Pexels
Between the past two days, my life turned into something straight out of an inspirational movie.
I’m a mom of four wonderful, chaotic children ranging from four to eight years old. Life is a constant juggling act between my part-time teaching job and managing our home while my husband Mason works as an engineer.
Our life isn’t fancy, but the laughter of our kids fills every corner of our modest house with joy.
A woman with her children | Source: Pexels
That morning started like any other. I had my wrinkled shopping list in one hand and my desperately needed coffee in the other, mentally calculating how to stretch our budget through another week of feeding four growing children.
The fluorescent lights of Happinezz Mart buzzed overhead as I stood in the parking lot, gathering my energy for the weekly shopping marathon. The morning air was crisp, carrying the first hints of winter as I pulled my cardigan tighter around myself.
That’s when I saw him. A homeless man, holding a desperate sign that read, “HELP.”
The first thing I noticed was his eyes. They weren’t looking at me, or anyone else… just fixed on the displays of fresh bread and fruit through the grocery store window.
A homeless man on the street | Source: Pexels
His weathered jacket hung loose on his thin frame, and his gray hair poked out from under a worn cap. His hands, I noticed, were clean but rough, like someone who had worked hard his whole life.
I don’t know what made me stop. Maybe it was the way his shoulders slumped, or how his fingers unconsciously moved toward his empty stomach.
Maybe it was because he reminded me of my father who’d passed away last year with that same quiet dignity in the face of hardship.
Dad had always taught us that true strength wasn’t in never needing help, but in being brave enough to accept it when offered.
An emotional woman looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
“Excuse me, sir,” I approached the man. “Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?”
He turned to me slowly and I saw desperate hunger in his eyes.
“More than you can imagine, young lady! I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning.”
My heart broke for this man. How often do we walk past the homeless, oblivious to their suffering? And how often do we see beyond their situation and offer them compassion, not just a piece of bread?
A hungry homeless man | Source: Pexels
“Please, come shop with me, sir. I’m Greta. I’ll pay for your groceries.”
“Miss, I can’t accept—” he hesitated, but I cut him off gently.
“I insist. Besides, I could use some company while I shop. My kids aren’t here to argue about which cereal has the better toy inside. And honestly, shopping alone is pretty boring.”
A small smile cracked through his weathered face. “I’m Morgan. And… thank you. You remind me of my late daughter, Grace. She always helped people too.”
A supermarket | Source: Pexels
Walking through the aisles with Morgan was an exercise in humility. He’d reach for the cheapest bread, the marked-down cans, pulling his hand back whenever he thought he was asking for too much.
Each time he apologized, my heart would break a little more.
“These are good,” he said softly, pointing to some discount soup cans. “They last a while. And they’re easy to heat up if… well, if you can find a place to heat them.”
Soup cans stacked on a supermarket shelf | Source: Unsplash
“Let’s get some meatloaf and mashed potatoes, too,” I suggested, steering us toward the deli section. “When’s the last time you had a proper, hot meal?”
Morgan’s eyes misted over. “Been a while. Used to grow my own vegetables and sell them to buy those delicious meals, you know. Had a little garden behind my house. Tomatoes, cucumbers, even some strawberries.”
As we walked, I found myself talking about my family, filling the awkward silence with stories about my kids. Morgan listened intently as if each word was precious.
A sad older man | Source: Pexels
“My kids would love these,” I said, tossing some cookies into the cart. “The twins, they’re six, and they’d eat the whole package if I let them. Last week, they tried to convince me that cookies counted as breakfast!”
Morgan’s eyes softened. “How many children do you have?”
“Four of them,” I laughed, pulling out my phone to show him a picture. “The twins, Jack and James, they’re convinced they’re going to be soccer stars, even though they trip over their feet half the time. Then there’s little Lily, she’s four and obsessed with bubble gum. She once stuck gum in her brother’s hair and we had to cut it out. And Nina, my eight-year-old bookworm.”
A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
“She looks just like you,” Morgan said, pointing to Nina in the photo. “Same smile, same kind eyes. You have such a beautiful family.”
“That’s what my husband always says. Though I think she got his brains, thank goodness! She’s reading at a sixth-grade level already. Sometimes I find her up past bedtime, flashlight under the covers, cooing, ‘Just one more chapter, Mom, please?’”
“They’re beautiful. You must be very proud. Sometimes I wonder…” Morgan trailed off, and I pretended not to notice as he wiped his eyes with his sleeve.
A distressed older man | Source: Pexels
As we checked out, I noticed his hands trembling slightly as he helped bag the groceries.
When I handed him his bags, including both gallons of milk I’d bought, his eyes welled up.
“I don’t deserve this kindness.”
“Everyone deserves kindness, Morgan. Everyone.”
“Thank you, ma’am! God bless you.”
And with that, we parted ways as I watched Morgan sit on the parking lot’s steps, happily eating his meal.
A homeless man eating his meal | Source: Pexels
The next morning, my kids frustratingly stared at their dry cereal bowls. Jack pushed his bowl away dramatically, while James pointed out that this was clearly the end of the world.
“Mom,” Nina looked up at me, “did you forget to buy milk yesterday?”
“Oops, sorry, honey! I’ll get it today, okay?”
I’d forgotten that I’d given both milk gallons to Morgan, so here I was, back at the same grocery store, ready to face the morning rush. The twins had gone to school with promises of chocolate milk in their lunch boxes tomorrow to make up for the breakfast disaster.
A woman in a grocery store | Source: Pexels
The parking lot was busier, filled with moms like me doing their morning shopping. A school bus rumbled past, reminding me I had only an hour before I needed to be at school myself, ready to face a classroom of energetic third graders.
The sound of car doors slamming and shopping carts rattling filled the air.
I almost walked past him. The straight-backed man in the crisp military uniform couldn’t possibly be the same person I’d helped yesterday. But those eyes… I recognized them immediately.
A man in a military uniform | Source: Midjourney
“Greta,” he called out, his voice stronger than yesterday. “I hoped you’d come back. I’ve been waiting since dawn.”
“Wait a minute… aren’t you the homeless man I helped yesterday? Morgan, right?”
He gestured to a nearby bench. “Would you sit with me for a moment? I owe you an explanation. And maybe a thank you isn’t enough, but it’s where I need to start.”
A stunned woman | Source: Pexels
“I was a Master Sergeant,” Morgan began, his fingers running over his uniform’s sleeve as we sat on the bench. “Twenty-six years of service. Lost good friends. Young men who never got to come home. But coming home… it was harder than leaving ever was.”
“What happened?” I asked softly, noticing how his hands clenched and unclenched as he spoke.
“PTSD. Depression. The usual story. My wife passed while I was overseas. Cancer. A year earlier, I’d lost my daughter in a tragic accident. Coming back to an empty house…” he shook his head.
A sad man with his eyes downcast | Source: Midjourney
“The silence was the worst part. No one telling me to take my boots off before coming inside. No one breathing beside me at night. No one to call me… Dad. One day, I just walked away from everything. Couldn’t handle the memories. I thought it was the only way to escape the pain.”
I reached out and squeezed his hand, my eyes moist. He squeezed back, his grip firm but gentle.
“Yesterday, when you looked at me — really looked at me — and showed me such simple kindness… it broke something loose inside.” Morgan’s voice wavered.
An emotional woman | Source: Unsplash
“And after you left, I stood there holding those bags of groceries, and for the first time in years, I felt human again. Not just a shadow sliding past people on the street.”
“So I walked into the VA office. Just walked right in. The lady at the front desk, she…” he paused, collecting himself. “She hugged me. Said they’d been worried sick about me. Turns out my old commanding officer had been looking for me for months. He even had people out searching the streets. I just… I never thought anyone would care enough to look.”
A man smiling | Source: Midjourney
“They’re giving me a chance to help other vets,” Morgan continued, his face lighting up. “There’s this new program for soldiers just coming home. They want me to be a mentor and help them re-adjust before the darkness sets in. Share my story, you know? Show them there’s hope, even when it feels like there isn’t.”
“Morgan, that’s wonderful!” I felt tears sliding down my cheeks.
“Your kindness… it reminded me that I still have something to give,” he said, straightening his uniform jacket. “This morning, I got my first shower in months. Got my old uniform out of storage. Feels strange to wear it again. But positively strange. Like coming home… to a home I’m ready for this time.”
A sad woman | Source: Midjourney
He reached into his pocket and pulled out two gallons of milk. “These are for your kids. Bought them just now. Can’t have your little ones missing their breakfast because of me. And this—” he pressed a folded piece of paper into my hand, “is my number. If you ever need anything, anything at all…”
“What about you? Will you be okay?” I asked, still worried.
“The VA’s got me set up in temporary housing. Starting counseling tomorrow. And next week, I start working with the new vets. Turns out my experience… even the bad parts… they might help someone else make it through.”
Portrait of a cheerful man smiling | Source: Midjourney
I hugged him tightly, not caring who saw. “Promise you’ll keep in touch?”
Morgan smiled, and this time it reached his eyes.
“Promise. Just keep teaching those kids of yours about kindness, Greta. It saves lives. I’m living proof of that. And maybe someday I can meet them. Tell them some stories about their mom, the angel who saved an old soldier’s life with food and a gentle word of kindness.”
A man looking at someone with a warm smile | Source: Midjourney
I watched him walk away, his uniform gleaming in the morning sun, his steps sure and purposeful. My heart feels so full knowing Morgan is safe and cared for now. That he’ll have a warm bed, regular meals, and most importantly, a purpose again.
Sometimes the smallest acts of kindness create the biggest ripples, and I’m just grateful I got to be a part of Morgan’s story.
A smiling woman looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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