Karl’s company was about to move to new heights, and this only reinforced his growing arrogance. However, after mistreating an air hostess on his flight to a life-changing meeting, Karl is finally humbled.
Karl was a middle-aged man well on his way to the big leagues. His company was about to become a subsidiary of a large multinational corporation.
Karl came from humble beginnings and had worked all of his life to finally get to this point in his career. He was set to travel to Chicago to sign his deal, and he was over the moon.
Karl had long awaited this moment, and he was set on enjoying it as much as he possibly could. He got himself a business-class ticket to celebrate his new venture.
His newfound success was beginning to go to his head, and Karl became a little reckless with his behavior and how he treated people. As he sat in his business-class seat, he pompously took in the view that surrounded him. This was his first time in business class.
“It’s about to be one hell of a celebration,” he said to the man sitting next to him.
“Oh, really!? What are we celebrating?” the man asked.
“I’m on my way to Chicago to sign the contract of a lifetime. This is definitely a champagne moment,” a cheerful Karl explains.
“Oh wow. That’s great. I’m happy for you,” the man said.
“What is this? The audacity! You take thirty minutes to bring me my champagne, and it’s warm!? Are you serious?”
“Hey! A chilled bottle of your best champagne!” Karl barked to the air hostess, snapping his fingers rather rudely.
“No problem, sir. I’ll attend to you in a second,” the air hostess kindly responded.
Thirty minutes went by, and Karl became agitated because he still hadn’t received his order. The air hostess finally came with Karl’s champagne, and Karl was not pleased at all.
“So? What took you so long? I’ve been waiting for about half an hour?” Karl barked at the air hostess.
“I’m so sorry about that, sir. I had to handle something in economy class,” the air hostess calmly responded.
“What is this? The audacity! You take thirty minutes to bring me my champagne, and it’s warm!? Are you serious?” Karl snapped, shoving the champagne bottle to the floor.
“I’m sorry, sir! I just—” the air hostess nervously started before being interrupted by a further agitated Karl.
“Stop with the excuses! Just do your job! I am your boss here! You understand?” Karl barked, the rest of the passengers now looking on at his spectacle.
As he was going off at the air hostess, who did her best to hold back her tears, an elderly woman, Anna, stepped into the business class cubicles. Karl was astonished to see the Chief Executive Officer for the very company he was about to sign to. Anna went straight to the air hostess and greeted her warmly.
“Thank you for what you did for me,” Anna said.
“It’s no problem. It was my pleasure,” the air hostess said, feigning a smile as she wiped her tears.
“Why are you crying?” Anna asked, concerned. Karl uncomfortably shifted to the side as the air hostess turned to look at him, with Anna following.
“Well, I think you should apologize to this young lady.”
“Uhm… Just… I just had a little disagreement with this gentleman here. That’s all,” the air hostess said, trying her best to conceal her hurt and frustration.
“Karl? What are the chances of us being on the same flight?” Anna said, shocked to see Karl and curious about what role he had to play in the air hostess’s sudden sadness.
“Uhm… Anna, yes, it’s a surprise to see you here. Why are you in economy class?” Karl hesitantly asked.
“Well, it saves me money to give to charity and other worthwhile causes. And you? Why are you making this woman’s job more difficult than it has to be? I heard you all the way from my section,” Anna said.
“Uhm… No, it’s just that she took forever to bring me my champagne, and it was warm when it arrived. Poor service delivery,” Karl said, sticking to his arrogance.
“Well, I think you should apologize to this young lady. While you were waiting on your champagne, I had an asthma attack, and she was kind enough to drop everything and attend to me. She saved my life,” Anna explained to Karl rather firmly and with conviction.
“Saved you?” a confused Karl asked.
“Yes, that’s what held up your champagne. I’m sorry about that. But don’t be so rash as to call out people on doing their job when you don’t understand the full scope of things. Take this as advice from someone who would’ve been your boss,” Anna said.
“Uhm… ‘Would’ve,’ ma’am?” Karl nervously asked.
“Karl… I have lots of money, but what would I do with them if my life was in the hands of the stewardess today? Never put yourself above other people. You may need their help. Anyways, we’ll conclude this conversation in Chicago,” Anna coldly said before turning to the air hostess with a smile. “And thank you again, my dear.”
“I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have treated you like that,” Karl said to the air hostess.
“It’s okay,” she responded.
Anna walked out of the business class section, leaving Karl completely perplexed. Karl became nervous about his contract when their flight finally landed in Chicago.
As fate would have it, Anna retracted the offer to Karl’s company, and the deal never ended up happening.
What can we learn from this story?
Never put yourself above others. Karl’s arrogance made him treat people wrongly, but it worked against him in the end.
Kindness goes a long way. The air hostess dropped everything to help Anna, and her kindness brought Anna to her defense later when Karl was mistreating her.
Tell us what you think, and share this story with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.
My Stepmom Was Secretly Using My Little Sister’s Christmas Money – I Made Her Regret It
When Joan sat down for a cozy movie night with her younger sister, she expected laughter and bonding, not a shocking confession. Beverly revealed their stepmother, Sophia, had taken her Christmas money, and Joan knew she had to expose the betrayal in the most unforgettable way.
“Let it go, let it go!” Beverly sang along with Elsa, her little voice rising and falling, full of joy. She was snuggled against me on the couch, clutching her favorite blanket.
A happy girl on a couch | Source: Freepik
It was our first quiet moment since I came home for Christmas break, and I was soaking it all in.
“Still your favorite movie, huh?” I teased, ruffling her soft brown hair.
She giggled. “Always.”
A woman kissing her sister | Source: Freepik
Beverly was only eight, but she’d been through so much. After Mom passed two years ago, it had been just us and Dad for a while. Then came Sophia. She wasn’t evil or anything, just cold. She’d smile when Dad was around, but when it was just us, her patience ran thin. I’d left for college a year later, and Beverly stayed behind, which killed me.
But now, here we were, watching her favorite movie for the hundredth time.
A happy young girl with her phone | Source: Freepik
“Did you have a good Christmas?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
She nodded enthusiastically. “Uh-huh! Daddy got me a doll. Sophia gave me pencils.”
“Pencils?” I frowned.
“Yeah,” she said, shrugging. “They’re the twisty kind. They’re okay.”
A girl talking to her sister | Source: Midjourney
I felt a small pang in my chest. “What about Grandma and Grandpa? Or Aunt Liz? Didn’t they give you anything?”
“They gave me money,” she said, her voice quieter now.
I smiled. “That’s awesome, Bev! What are you gonna buy?”
Her face scrunched up, and she fiddled with the hem of her blanket. “I don’t have it anymore.”
A sad young girl | Source: Midjourney
“What do you mean?” I asked, leaning in.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Sophia took it. She said I had too many presents already. She used it for groceries ‘cause Christmas dinner cost a lot.”
My stomach flipped. “Wait. All of it?”
She nodded. “I had three hundred dollars, but Sophia said I wouldn’t spend it right anyway.”
A girl listening to her sister | Source: Midjourney
I stared at her. My little sister. Three hundred dollars. Taken.
“Bev, who gave you the money? Did you count it yourself?”
“Grandma gave me $100, Grandpa gave me $100, and Aunt Liz gave me $100. We counted it at Grandma’s house before we came home.”
“And then Sophia took it?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
A sad girl talking | Source: Midjourney
“She said she’d hold it for me, but I never got it back,” Beverly murmured, looking down at her hands.
My blood was boiling. How could she? How could a grown woman take money from an eight-year-old and call it “groceries”?
“You’re sure she used it for Christmas dinner?” I pressed.
“She said she did, but I saw her bag from the mall.”
A sad girl hugging her toy | Source: Pexels
I clenched my fists. My head spun with a mix of rage and disbelief.
“Beverly, thank you for telling me. I’m so sorry this happened. But don’t worry, okay? I’m gonna take care of it.”
“How?” she asked, her big eyes looking up at me.
I forced a smile. “You’ll see. Just trust me.”
A smiling girl on her living room couch | Source: Midjourney
That night, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling. I couldn’t just let this slide. If I confronted Sophia alone, she’d deny everything or twist it around. No, I needed backup. I needed witnesses.
The next morning, I texted Dad.
“Hey, can we do a family dinner tomorrow before I go back to school? I think it’d be nice to gather everyone one last time.”
A serious young woman looking her phone | Source: Pexels
“Sounds great! I’ll set it up,” he replied.
I smiled, my plan already forming. Sophia wouldn’t know what hit her.
The dining room glowed with soft candlelight. The table was covered with leftover holiday decorations—gold ribbons, pinecones, and glittering ornaments. Everyone had finished their meals, and the warm scent of baked ham and apple pie lingered in the air.
A table set for dinner | Source: Pexels
Dad sat at the head of the table, laughing at one of Grandpa’s jokes. Grandma, sitting beside him, adjusted her glasses while sipping coffee. Across the table, Sophia looked smug, chatting with Aunt Liz about her “excellent holiday sales finds.” She was completely at ease, as if nothing could disturb her perfect little world.
I glanced at Beverly, sitting next to me. She was swinging her legs under the table, her hands clutching a cookie. Her cheeks were flushed from the warmth of the room.
A happy girl with a cookie | Source: Midjourney
This was the moment.
I tapped my fork against my glass. “Hey, everyone,” I said, smiling to get their attention. “Before we wrap up, can I share something?”
The room went quiet, and all eyes turned to me.
“Of course, sweetheart,” Dad said, leaning forward.
A woman standing up to talk at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney
I reached over and gave Beverly a quick squeeze on her shoulder. “So, you all know how much Beverly loves riding her scooter, right?”
Grandpa chuckled. “She’s always zipping around on that thing!”
“Well,” I continued, “she’s been dreaming of getting a bicycle. Something a little faster, maybe with a basket for her dolls.”
Beverly smiled shyly.
A couple and their daughter | Source: Pexels
“And guess what? Beverly got a lot of money for Christmas to help her buy one. Grandma, Grandpa, Aunt Liz—you were all so generous.” I paused, letting that sink in. “But the weird thing is… Beverly doesn’t have the money anymore.”
Sophia’s smile froze. Her fingers tensed around her coffee cup.
“What do you mean?” Dad asked, his brow furrowing.
A serious man looking up | Source: Midjourney
I kept my gaze steady. “She told me that Sophia took it. All three hundred dollars.”
The room fell silent, except for the faint clinking of Grandpa setting down his fork.
Sophia let out a nervous laugh. “Oh, Joan, that’s not exactly true. Beverly didn’t understand—”
“She understood perfectly,” I interrupted, my voice firm. “She told me you said she had too many presents already and that you’d use the money for ‘groceries.’”
A middle-aged woman | Source: Midjourney
Sophia’s face turned red. “That’s not fair! I used some of it for Christmas dinner. Do you have any idea how expensive hosting is? And didn’t I deserve a little break after all that work? It’s only fair I treated myself to a spa day and some candles!”
“Did Dad ask you to use Beverly’s money for dinner?” I shot back.
An angry young woman | Source: Midjourney
Dad shook his head slowly, his expression hardening. “No, I didn’t. Sophia, is this true? Did you take Beverly’s Christmas money?”
Sophia stammered. “I—I didn’t take it. I borrowed it. I was going to put it back!”
Grandma’s voice was sharp. “You spent money that wasn’t yours. On yourself. How dare you?”
An angry elderly woman at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney
Sophia’s overconfidence cracked. She pointed at Beverly. “She’s just a child! She wouldn’t have spent it wisely. I was only trying to make sure it went toward something useful.”
“Useful?” I repeated, incredulous. “Like spa treatments? Or those fancy candles?”
“I said I’d put it back!” Sophia’s voice rose, now shaky and defensive.
An angry woman at the table | Source: Midjourney
“Enough!” Dad’s voice boomed, silencing the room. He turned to Beverly, his expression softening. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry this happened. That money was yours, and it should’ve stayed yours.”
He looked back at Sophia, his tone cold. “You’re going to pay back every cent tonight. I don’t care if it comes out of your savings or your next paycheck, but Beverly gets her money back. Do you understand me?”
An angry man | Source: Midjourney
Sophia opened her mouth, then closed it again, realizing there was no way out. She nodded stiffly, her face pale.
“And let me be clear,” Dad continued. “If anything like this happens again, we’re done. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Sophia whispered, staring down at her plate.
A sad woman looking at her plate | Source: Midjourney
I squeezed Beverly’s hand under the table. Sophia didn’t look at anyone as she sat there, defeated.
But I wasn’t done. “Beverly already knows what she’s buying, don’t you?” I said, giving her a wink.
She nodded. “A pink bike with a basket.”
Grandma smiled. “We’ll go shopping tomorrow, sweetie.”
A happy girl at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney
The conversation moved on, but Sophia sat in silence, her face as red as the tablecloth. She’d been exposed, and everyone knew it.
The next morning, I woke up to Beverly bouncing on my bed. “Joan! Wake up! You promised!” she squealed, her excitement lighting up the room.
I groaned dramatically. “What time is it? The sun’s barely up!”
A sleeping girl in her bed | Source: Midjourney
“It’s bike day!” she declared, dragging me out of bed by my hand.
After breakfast, Dad handed me the full $300. “This is from my savings. Take Bev shopping and make sure she gets everything she wants,” he said, turning to Beverly. “This is your money, and it’s time you enjoy it.”
Beverly clutched the bills tightly, her eyes gleaming. “Thank you, Daddy!”
A close-up shot of a smiling young girl | Source: Pexels
We spent hours at the store. Beverly picked out the prettiest pink bike with a white basket and matching tassels. She made sure it had a bell and a helmet, too. With the leftover money, she bought a doll she’d been eyeing and a giant art kit.
“Do you think Sophia’s mad?” she asked as we loaded everything into the car.
Loading groceries into a car | Source: Midjourney
“Maybe,” I said honestly. “But she had no right to take your money. And now, she knows she can’t get away with it.”
Back home, Dad pulled me aside. “Joan, thank you for standing up for Beverly. I should’ve noticed something was off, but I trusted Sophia too much. That won’t happen again.”
A man talking to his daughter | Source: Midjourney
“She’s your wife,” I said gently. “It’s okay to trust her, but I’m glad you see the truth now.”
That evening, Dad sat Sophia down and made her repay the stolen money from her savings. “This is your one and only warning,” he said firmly. “If you ever betray this family again, we’re done.”
Sophia apologized meekly, but her usual smugness was gone.
A worried woman | Source: Freepik
Watching Beverly ride her new bike down the driveway, her laughter filling the air, I knew one thing for sure: justice felt good.
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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