When Martha comes back from a weekend trip, she is shocked to discover her mother-in-law, Gloria, has ruined her daughter’s beloved flowerbed by replacing it with ugly garden gnomes. Angered but calm, Martha devises a clever plan to give her a lesson she won’t forget.

My daughter Amy was everything to me from the day she was born. After her father left when she was two, it was just the two of us against everything until Stephen entered our lives.

He brought love, stability, and sadly, his mother Gloria.

Since I married his son, Gloria has shown disapproval of me and Amy through remarks like, “You don’t need a woman carrying baggage,” or “Why bother buying presents for a kid who isn’t yours?”

Stephen always stood up for us. “Amy is my daughter,” he’d declare firmly. “And Martha is my wife. That makes them family.”

But Gloria would dismiss his words with a wave of her hand, acting as if shooing away an irritating fly.

“You should focus on having your own children, Stephen,” she’d say. “I want grandchildren, not step-grandchildren or whatever she is.”

Sometimes these talks got heated, but Stephen could never reason with her. When I suggested we all try to stay calm, Gloria would tell me it was a family matter and that I should stay out of it.

It was tough, but I tried to stay civil and keep peace for two years. Then Gloria did something unforgivable.

Amy always loved gardening. On her 12th birthday, Stephen and I gave her a few plants and set aside a small space for her garden. She told us it was the best gift she ever received.

She spent months planning and building her flowerbed. Watching her face light up when the first tulips opened was wonderful.

That garden was more than just dirt and flowers. It was her pride and joy. She saved her allowance to buy the flowers she wanted, researching which ones would grow best in our area.

“Mom, look!” she’d say every morning, pulling me outside to see new sprouts. “The daffodils are coming up!”

She knew every flower by name, could tell you when it would bloom, and how to care for it.

While some children her age liked video games or social media, Amy found happiness in watching plants grow.

When she showed her garden to Gloria, Gloria looked down her nose at the flowers and sniffed.

“I suppose it’s fitting for you to be digging in the dirt,” she said before walking inside quickly.

Amy frowned. “What does that mean, Mom?”

I forced a smile. “I think she’s saying your gardening makes you happy, sweetheart.”

Amy didn’t look totally convinced but shrugged and kept working on her garden. I winked and followed Gloria inside.

She had agreed to watch our dog while we were away for the weekend, and I showed her where the food was, trying not to get upset.

The weekend went smoothly. Amy collected pretty stones, Stephen grilled marshmallows, and I forgot about Gloria.

We hiked trails filled with wildflowers, and Amy identified each one, telling facts about when they bloom and their needs. She even wrote notes in her journal, planning new additions for her garden.

On the drive home, we dropped Amy with my mother for some special time with Grandma. That way, she didn’t see what Gloria had done to her garden.

When I looked at our yard, I was horrified. Amy’s beautiful flowerbed was destroyed, replaced by a row of ugly ceramic gnomes with creepy grins. The soil was torn up, Amy’s carefully arranged flowers tossed aside like weeds. Even the painted stones she used as borders were gone.

I hurried into the house with Stephen close behind.

“Gloria!” I called, trying to keep my voice even. “What have you done to Amy’s flowerbed?”

She appeared in the hallway, smiling smugly, with her hair neat and shining in the sunlight.

“Oh, Martha! Don’t you love the gnomes? Flowers only bloom in summer, and I thought the garden needed decorations all year.”

“That was Amy’s flowerbed, Mom! How could you do this?” Stephen demanded.

Gloria shrugged and pursed her lips. I knew nothing I said would change her mind. She needed a hard lesson, and I was ready to give it.

I put my hand on Stephen’s arm. He looked at me, raising one eyebrow. I nodded for him to step back.

I forced a sweet smile, though it hurt. “You’re right, Gloria. The gnomes are lovely. You should tell me how much we owe for them.”

She looked surprised for a moment, then her grin returned.

“Yes, well, they’re hand-painted and quite costly. About $500.”

That was outrageous, but I kept my composure. “Let’s settle this tomorrow. Come for dinner and I’ll pay then.”

Gloria agreed to join us and left with her head held high, spoiling for a fight.

Stephen asked, “What’s your plan, Martha?”

“A lesson Gloria won’t forget. I’m sorry it’s come to this, honey, but…”

Stephen sighed. “I understand. Do what you think is best. I support you.”

That evening, I tallied up the damage. The rose bushes, special tulips, organic compost, everything Amy carefully chose. I even included the cost of soil testing because Gloria likely contaminated the bed with chemicals. The total reached fifteen hundred dollars.

The next evening, Gloria came into our dining room like she was winning a prize.

I greeted her with a bright smile and handed her an envelope.

“Oh, Gloria, I have something for you!”

She eagerly opened it, pulling out five hundred-dollar bills. Her smile vanished when she saw the detailed bill beneath.

“What is this?” she stammered. “Fifteen hundred dollars? You’ve got to be kidding!”

“Not at all,” I answered calmly but firmly.

“You destroyed something my daughter spent months creating. This is the cost to fix it.”

Stephen leaned back, clearly pleased. Gloria’s face turned red as she stormed out, saying she’d come back tomorrow to get her gnomes.

Sure enough, she arrived the next day with a check. She didn’t speak, just loaded her gnomes into her car with a tight-lipped expression that said everything.