When my new neighbor Meredith moved in, she immediately took issue with the small solar lights my daughter Lily and I had placed in our garden. They weren’t bright at all, just a soft glow that turned off by midnight. Still, Meredith stormed over nightly, demanding I remove them. To keep the peace, I finally gave in—even though it broke Lily’s heart.

The very next morning, Meredith showed up at my door in tears. Without the lights, raccoons had invaded her pristine garden, tearing up her expensive roses and plants. Her yard, which she once bragged about, was now a wreck. She begged me to put the lights back up, even asking for my help cleaning the mess.

I reminded her calmly that she had insisted I take them down and told her it wasn’t my problem. She looked furious, but there was nothing she could say. For weeks, she spent time and money trying to restore her garden, while Lily and I quietly put our lights back up—adding a few more for good measure.

In the end, Meredith learned her lesson the hard way: those little “fairy lights” she hated so much weren’t just decoration, they were protection. As for me and Lily, we got our garden magic back and a front-row seat to karma at work.