The Courier Sloppily Threw My Parcels on My Doorstep Smashing Them – I Taught Him a Lesson Once and for All

Moving into a new house was a dream come true for my family and me. The neighborhood was perfect. The neighbors were friendly, the parks were beautiful, and the schools were top-notch. Everything seemed ideal except for one thing. Our parcels always arrived damaged.

One morning, I opened the door to find another crumpled package. “Not again!” I sighed, picking it up. It was the third time that week. First, it was a book with bent pages. Then, a kitchen gadget arrived with a dent. This time, I hoped the shoes I ordered for Lily would be fine. But the box was smashed.

“Mom, why are our packages always messed up?” Lily asked, looking at the damaged box.

“I don’t know, honey. But it’s driving me crazy,” I replied, feeling frustrated.

A few days later, the final straw came. I had ordered a beautiful vase, something I’d wanted for a long time. When it arrived, the box was in pieces. I opened it to find the vase shattered.

“That’s it,” I said, fuming. “I’m going to find out who’s doing this.”

That evening, I called my husband, Mark. “Mark, we need to install a security camera. Our packages are always getting ruined.”

“You’re right, Jane,” he agreed. “Let’s set it up this weekend.”

We installed the camera by the front door, hoping to catch the culprit.

The next week, I ordered a small item, a simple notebook. When it arrived, the package was, unsurprisingly, crumpled. I rushed to check the footage from the camera. What I saw shocked me.

“Mark, come here!” I called out.

Mark came running. “What is it?”

“Look at this,” I said, pointing at the screen.

The footage showed the courier, a young man, tossing the package onto our porch from at least 15 feet away. He didn’t even look to see if it landed safely.

“That’s ridiculous,” Mark said, shaking his head. “We have to do something.”

“I have an idea,” I said, feeling a mix of anger and determination.

Later that day, I explained my plan to Mark and Lily. “I’m going to teach him a lesson he’ll never forget. I’ll set up a trap.”

“What kind of trap, Mom?” Lily asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“A box labeled ‘Cold Water,’ but inside, there will be a mechanism to spray paint when he opens it,” I explained.

“Mom, that’s a bit much, don’t you think?” Lily said, frowning. “Maybe there’s a kinder way to handle this.”

“No, Lily. He needs to learn not to treat people’s packages like that,” I insisted.

Mark nodded in agreement. “Sometimes, people need a wake-up call.”

The next day, I set up the trap. I placed the box by the door, labeled it clearly, and installed the paint mechanism inside. I felt a sense of satisfaction, knowing the courier would get what he deserved.

As the day went on, I couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. “Do you think this will work?” I asked Mark.

“We’ll see,” he said. “But maybe Lily has a point. What if it backfires?”

“I’ll deal with that if it happens,” I replied, trying to sound confident. “He needs to learn.”

That evening, as I prepared dinner, I kept glancing at the front door, anticipating the courier’s arrival. Lily sat at the kitchen table, watching me with a concerned expression.

“Mom, are you sure about this?” she asked again.

“Yes, Lily. Sometimes, people need to face the consequences of their actions,” I said firmly.

I held my breath, waiting for the paint to splatter.

“I hope this works out, Mom. I still think there’s a better way,” Lily said and left to her room.

“Let’s just see,” I replied, not wanting to dampen my own anticipation.

The courier stopped when he saw the box labeled “Cold Water.” He looked around, a bit puzzled. Carefully, he placed the new package gently on the porch. Then, he turned his attention to the box. He opened it slowly, and I expected a spray of paint to catch him off guard.

But nothing happened. Instead, he reached inside, pulled out a bottle of water, and read a note attached to it. He smiled, took a drink, and went on with his deliveries, leaving our package in perfect condition.

I couldn’t believe what I saw. I rushed outside to check the box. The paint mechanism was gone, replaced by a cold bottle of water and a note that read, “Quench your thirst, please take some water!”

“Lily!” I called out, astonished. “Did you do this?”

Lily appeared at the door, a shy smile on her face. “Yes, Mom. I thought it was better to be kind. Look, it worked. He didn’t damage the package.”

I was speechless for a moment. Then, I hugged her. “You’re right, Lily. This was a much better idea.”

Reflecting on what happened, I realized how wise my daughter had been. Her approach of kindness had not only spared the courier but also brought about the change we needed. I had wanted to teach him a harsh lesson, but Lily’s method proved to be more effective.

“Lily, you taught me something important today,” I said, feeling proud and humbled. “Kindness can make a big difference.”

She beamed. “I’m glad it worked, Mom. Sometimes, people just need a little compassion.”

From that day forward, our packages arrived in perfect condition. The courier always handled them with care, and sometimes, he even left a small thank-you note.

I learned that day that revenge might bring satisfaction, but kindness brings lasting change. Our situation improved, and the courier’s behavior changed for the better, all thanks to a simple act of kindness and a bottle of cold water.

Entitled Hotel Guest Mocked My Mom Who Works as a Maid, so She Taught Her Never to Mess with Housekeeping Again

When a devoted hotel maid is tormented by a wealthy and arrogant guest, she devises a plan that turns the tables in the most unexpected way. Instead of seeking revenge with anger, she orchestrates a quiet but powerful act of defiance that forces the cruel woman to face the bitter consequences of her actions.

My mother has always been a source of inspiration for me. As a maid at a fancy local hotel, she takes immense pride in her work. She treats every room as if it were her own, ensuring everything is spotless and welcoming for the guests.

Recently, however, she had an encounter that tested her patience like never before. It all started on a seemingly ordinary day. My mother was assigned to clean room 256, which was occupied by a young woman named Ms. Johnson.

From the moment she stepped into the room, my mother could sense the woman’s dislike for her. Ms. Johnson lounged on the bed, scrolling through her phone, barely acknowledging my mother’s presence.

As my mother meticulously cleaned the room, making sure every surface was spotless, Ms. Johnson suddenly knocked her coffee cup off the table, sending dark liquid spilling onto the freshly mopped floor. She didn’t even flinch. Instead, she looked my mother straight in the eye and sneered, “Clean that up!”

My mother’s heart sank. She had worked so hard to make the room perfect, only to see her efforts so carelessly undone. But she knew she couldn’t afford to lose her job. It provided her with a sense of independence and stability for our family.

Swallowing her pride, she silently cleaned the floor again, all while feeling Ms. Johnson’s piercing gaze on her. As she worked, the woman laughed. The mocking giggle echoed through the room. “Well done for a maid. You didn’t even talk back to me,” she taunted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Tomorrow, I’ll come up with something more interesting for you.”

My mother finished her task, holding back tears. She knew showing any sign of distress would only give the woman more satisfaction. That night, as she recounted the story to me, I could see the hurt in her eyes. But there was also a spark of determination. She wasn’t going to let this entitled guest break her spirit.

The next day, my mother went to work with a plan. She knew Ms. Johnson would try to humiliate her again, but this time, she was ready. She was determined to show this woman that kindness and respect were not weaknesses and that underestimating the resolve of someone who works with dignity and pride was a grave mistake.