Some people only appreciate you when they need something. My sister Danielle learned that the hard way after betraying my son’s trust.
Adrian, my 17-year-old, is a gifted designer. When Danielle got engaged, she pleaded with him to make her wedding dress. He agreed, spending months perfecting every stitch despite her constant critiques. Then, when the dress was done, she uninvited him from the wedding.
Her reason? “No kids allowed.” Never mind that he had bled over her gown—literally. Never mind that she had promised him a front-row seat. She got what she wanted and discarded him.
I wasn’t having it. If she wouldn’t honor him, she didn’t deserve his art. We sold the dress to another bride, who raved about Adrian’s craftsmanship. Meanwhile, Danielle panicked, begging for the gown back—but it was gone.
Adrian didn’t just lose a dress that day. He gained something far more important: the knowledge that his talent is worth more than empty promises. And I? I gained the satisfaction of knowing I defended my son when it mattered most.
