I never expected a dream honeymoon gift to turn into a lesson in gratitude, but one phone call from my stepdaughter, Brooke, changed everything.
When I married Gary, I became a stepmom to Brooke, who was thirteen at the time. By her twenties, Brooke had grown into a smart, ambitious woman—though admittedly a little spoiled. From her college tuition to her lavish vineyard wedding, Gary and I had always supported her.
As a wedding gift, we splurged on a luxurious villa in the Dominican Republic for her honeymoon—private pool, ocean views, the works. But the day after her arrival, she called, furious. “This villa is tiny,” she complained. “The pool’s too small, and the beach is a five-minute walk. Did you even try?”
Gary was livid, but I had another idea. I called the villa’s management and arranged for her and her husband to be moved to a basic hotel room—no frills, no ocean views. When Brooke discovered the downgrade, she was outraged. “Fix this!” she demanded.
“Sweetheart,” I replied calmly, “you said the villa wasn’t good enough, so I thought a simpler room might suit you better.” Gary added firmly, “It’s time you learned to appreciate what you’re given.”
After days of silence, Brooke finally called back, apologetic. “I’m sorry,” she admitted. “The hotel room made me realize how much you’ve done for me. I’ve been selfish. I’ll do better.”
Sometimes, gratitude needs a little nudge. Was my approach too harsh, or just what she needed?