When I installed soft, solar garden lights with my daughter Lily, I never imagined they’d spark a neighborhood war. Our lights weren’t flashy — just a calming glow around our flower beds — but Meredith, the rigid new neighbor with a perfectly manicured garden, made it her mission to get rid of them. She claimed they were too bright and threatened to call the authorities unless I removed them. Reluctantly, and for Lily’s sake, I took them down — breaking her little heart in the process.

The very next morning, Meredith came banging on my door in a panic. Her flawless garden had been completely destroyed overnight — chewed up and trampled by raccoons. Without our lights scaring off the wildlife, her prized roses and expensive plants had become a midnight buffet. Gone was her cold, put-together persona — she stood there in pajamas, begging me to reinstall the lights and help clean up the mess.

I calmly reminded her that she was the one who demanded they be removed, and I wasn’t about to be treated like her personal gardener. She looked stunned, but I closed the door with a smile. Karma, it seemed, had impeccable timing. While she spent days — and likely hundreds of dollars — trying to salvage her yard, Lily and I cheerfully reinstalled our lights, this time adding even more twinkle to our garden.

That ordeal taught me a simple truth: sometimes, you just have to let people learn their lesson the hard way. Meredith got exactly what she asked for — and a bit more. As for us, our garden glows a little brighter now, both with lights and the satisfaction of standing our ground.