At our family reunion, it wasn’t the barbecue that got people talking—it was my brother-in-law Tom, who arrived late in a roaring red Ferrari, sunglasses on, ego blazing. He bragged nonstop about horsepower, leather interiors, and six-figure deals, soaking up attention like a celebrity.

Meanwhile, my husband David, a humble high school science teacher, quietly chatted with my dad about education. Later, he shared a moving story about a student overcoming homelessness, silencing the table.

Tom scoffed. “Nice, but you’ll never afford a car like mine on a teacher’s salary.” Even my sister, Lisa, chimed in. David just smiled and said, “I love what I do. That’s worth more than a paycheck.”

Three days later, karma struck. Tom’s Ferrari broke down, and he had to take the bus—where he found David, calmly grading papers. Soaked, late, and humiliated, Tom lost a big deal and was demoted.

At the next reunion, he offered David a quiet, heartfelt apology.