I’ve had my share of tricky neighbors, but none were as challenging as Meredith. What started as a seemingly small request to remove my harmless solar lights ended up with her begging at my doorstep.
I never really believed in karma—until this happened. I used to think fate was always against me, but this experience changed my perspective.
My name is Cecelia. I’m a 40-year-old single mom balancing a busy job as a marketing manager downtown and raising my incredible daughter, Lily.
Lily is ten years old and my greatest joy. She’s kind, sensitive, and sees the world with a wonder most adults have lost. She’s the kind of kid who leaves thank-you notes for the mailman and bakes cookies for our elderly neighbor, Mrs. Thompson, because she thought Mrs. Thompson “looked a little lonely today.”
Being Lily’s mom is the best part of my life. Even though it hasn’t always been easy—especially since I’ve been doing it alone for the past nine years after parting ways with her father—I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Balancing work, managing finances, and dealing with the ups and downs of single motherhood is tough, but Lily has been my rock. She’s kept me grounded, just as much as I’ve supported her.
We’ve lived in our cozy neighborhood for about five years, and it feels like home. It’s not fancy, but it’s welcoming and friendly. People here know each other, wave as they drive by, and share gardening tips on weekends. Summers are especially delightful, with kids riding bikes, the smell of barbecues in the air, and yard sales on every corner. Lily and I both love it here.
Our garden is our special retreat. Each evening, Lily and I sit outside, enjoying the soft glow of our solar lights, which we installed together last spring. Lily picked them out, saying our garden needed some “fairy magic.” It’s our favorite place to talk about her day, her dreams of becoming an astronaut, and anything else on her mind.
Then Meredith moved in next door a few months ago. Meredith is… well, a piece of work. At 33, she’s always impeccably dressed in tailored suits, even on weekends, and struts around in high heels like she’s about to close a million-dollar deal. She works in finance, drives a shiny new BMW, and her garden is filled with perfectly pruned roses and manicured hedges—clearly, she invests a lot of time and money into it.
But her attitude? Let’s just say “neighborly” isn’t in her vocabulary. She keeps to herself, never smiles, and avoids small talk over the fence. When she complained about the neighborhood kids playing too close to her lawn, I knew we were in for a rough ride.
At first, I didn’t pay much attention to her. I figured she was just one of those people who preferred solitude, and that was fine with me. But then she decided my little solar lights were a problem.
About a week after she moved in, Meredith started showing up at my door every evening, complaining about the lights. “They’re too bright and shining into my bedroom window. You need to remove them,” she demanded. I thought it was a one-time complaint, but she wouldn’t let it go. She even tried to get other neighbors on her side, claiming the lights were keeping her up all night.
It was ridiculous. The lights weren’t bright at all—they had a soft glow that faded by midnight. I tried to explain that they were solar-powered and not very bright, but she wouldn’t listen. “I don’t care. They need to go,” she snapped.
This was hard on Lily. She loved those lights—they were our little project. Every time Meredith stomped over to complain, I saw the disappointment in Lily’s eyes. She didn’t understand why our neighbor was so upset, and frankly, neither did I.
I wasn’t planning on taking the lights down—why should I? But then one day, Meredith stormed over with a look of pure rage. “Cecelia, these lights are a nuisance, and if you don’t remove them, I’ll get the AUTHORITIES INVOLVED!” she shouted.
I was furious, but I didn’t want to make a scene, especially one that would upset Lily. So, I took a deep breath and decided to take the lights down, hoping it would bring some peace.
Later that evening, as I was pulling the lights out of the ground, Lily came outside. “Mom, why are you taking them down?” she asked, her eyes filled with confusion.
I knelt beside her and hugged her close. “Sweetheart, Meredith isn’t happy with the lights, so we’re just going to take them down for now. But I promise, we’ll put up even better ones soon, okay? Maybe some that look like little stars.”
Lily nodded, but I could tell she was upset.
We went to bed thinking that would be the end of it, but we had no idea how quickly things were about to change.
The next morning, I was jolted awake by loud banging on the front door. I stumbled downstairs, wondering who could be causing such a racket so early. Peeking through the peephole, I was stunned to see Meredith—but not the polished, put-together Meredith I was used to. She looked completely different—her hair was a mess, her skin was pale, and she was wearing what looked like pajamas.
I opened the door, barely hiding my surprise. Before I could ask what was going on, she blurted out, “What did you do?! Put those solar lights back up IMMEDIATELY because my yard is ruined!”
I stared at her, completely baffled. Was this some kind of joke? Just yesterday, she was threatening to call the authorities if I didn’t take the lights down, and now she was demanding I put them back. What on earth was happening?
“Meredith, what are you talking about? You insisted we take them down, so we did,” I said, thoroughly confused.
“That was a mistake!” she wailed.
She explained that since the lights were gone, raccoons from the nearby forest had invaded her garden, destroying her expensive plants and chewing up everything in sight. “I… I couldn’t do anything,” she stammered. “I was too scared to go outside and chase them off. I just watched as they ruined my beautiful garden.”
I listened, trying to keep a straight face. When she finally stopped talking, I couldn’t help but smirk and said, “I warned you those lights served a purpose.”
Meredith’s eyes filled with tears, and she was on the verge of breaking down. She practically begged, “Please, put the lights back up. And could you help me clean up the mess in my yard?”
Even in her desperate state, she still had that underlying tone of entitlement, as if this whole mess was somehow my fault and I should drop everything to help her.
But I had reached my limit. I looked her straight in the eyes and said, “I’m sorry, Meredith, but that’s not really my problem. You made it clear you didn’t want those lights. So, I suggest you call a professional to deal with your yard.”
“But…”
“I hope the mess gets sorted out soon, Meredith,” I cut her off with a smile. “Have a nice day.”
And with that, I shut the door, leaving her standing there.
Over the next few weeks, Meredith spent countless hours and a small fortune trying to restore her garden. Meanwhile, Lily and I put our solar lights back up, adding a few extra ones just to be sure.
This whole experience taught me that karma really does have a way of balancing things out. Meredith wanted those lights gone, and she got exactly what she asked for—just with a little extra on the side.
So, what would you have done in my place?
