Every year, my family holds a reunion at my parents’ house. It’s usually a warm, joyful weekend — except when my brother-in-law Tom shows up. He’s a successful lawyer with a habit of reminding everyone just how successful he is. This year, he arrived late in a flashy red Ferrari, revving the engine until the whole family turned to look. As usual, he basked in the attention, bragging about the car’s cost, speed, and the bonus that bought it. At dinner, my husband David — a dedicated high school teacher — shared a moving story about one of his students who had overcome major odds to earn a scholarship. The table was quiet, touched by the story. Then Tom sneered. “That’s sweet, David. But you’ll never own a Ferrari on a teacher’s salary.” His wife — my sister — chimed in, “You really settled, didn’t you?
You could’ve aimed higher.” David, always calm, just smiled. “I love what I do. It’s not about money.” The room turned tense. I was furious but said nothing. I had a feeling karma would handle it. And it did — just days later. Tom’s Ferrari broke down on his way to an important meeting. He had no wallet, his phone battery was dying, and he had no choice but to take the bus — in his expensive suit, completely out of place. As fate would have it