Little Boy Brings Food To Beggar & His Dog Daily, One Day Boy Sees Dog Barking On His Doorstep – Story Of The Day

A policeman’s son befriends a homeless man and his dog and brings them food every day. Then the dog appears unexpectedly and alerts him to an injustice.At twelve, Brian Devlin was small for his age, and not very athletic. His father, Gary, didn’t really understand his shy, bookish son. His son was nothing like him…
He had been a tall, strapping, boisterous boy, always up to his ears in mischief. Gary tried to build his son’s self-confidence, but the harder he tried, the more Brian seemed to pull away.

Brian was smart, that Gary couldn’t deny, and he had a scholarship at a prestigious private college on the other side of town. The boy was scared of taking a bus, but since the school was close to his work, Gary picked him up every afternoon.
Gary was a desk Sargeant at the local precinct, and by the time his work ended at 5:00 p.m., the school day was long over. In the winter, Brian waited in the library and did his homework. But in the summer, he sat on the school steps and waited for his dad, soaking up the sunshine.

One afternoon, when Gary arrived, Brian wasn’t on the steps. He was outside the school gates petting a dog. Brian looked up at his dad with a happy grin.
Don’t make assumptions about people before you know who they are.
“Look, Dad,” he cried, then he said to the dog, “Dance!”

The dog hopped up onto its back legs and did a little jig, front paws up in the air and its tongue lolling out happily.

“Isn’t that so cool?” the boy asked.

“Yes,” Gary said, surprised by the enthusiasm Brian was showing. “Whose dog is that?”

“It’s Carl’s,” Brain said, and pointed at a man sitting on the pavement and leaning back against the school fence. The man was in his forties and he was clearly homeless.

A ragged bundle of blankets lay on the ground next to him, and he was unshaven. The dog, however, was well cared for. It was a Golden Retriever, and its fur was groomed and gleaming.

The man shrank back when Gary looked at him, so he said to his son, “Come on, now, it’s time to go.”

On the way home, Gary said, “Listen, Brian, I want you to stay away from that man and his dog, OK?”

“Carl’s OK and I love Goblin!” Brian protested.

“Goblin?” Gary asked. “Is that the dog’s name? Well, I’m sure Goblins’ a good dog, but I don’t want you befriending vagrants, Brian. Do you understand?”
“But dad…” Brian protested.

“Not another word,” Gary snapped.

The next day, when Gary came to fetch Brian, the boy was studiously sitting on the steps reading a book, but that night, his wife co

mplained that half a roast chicken was missing.

“I don’t understand!” she cried. “I set it aside to make sandwiches for Brian’s lunch and now it’s gone!”

Gary looked over at Brian and the boy looked so innocent that he was immediately suspicious. Was Brian taking food to school for that vagrant and his dog?

Gary started keeping an eye on the pantry and noticed that tins of sausages kept vanishing. He now knew that his son was stealing so he could feed the dog and the homeless man every day. Gary felt a pang.

His son, who had such difficulty making human friends, had bonded with the dog. It was a pity it belonged to a vagrant, a man who might be dangerous.

Two days later, Gary got off work early and when he arrived at the school, he caught Brian outside the gates. He had a bag in his hand and he was saying: “Hey guys, I have your favorite spaghetti, Carl. And for you boy, your favorite sausages!”
“BRIAN!” he thundered. “What are you doing?”

The boy looked up at him, and for the first time, Gary saw fear in his son’s eyes. Immediately he felt a surge of anger

It was this derelict’s fault that his son was afraid of him! He stepped forward and clenched his fists. “Get away from that man,” Gary shouted. “Get into the car!”

That night, Gary and his wife sat down and talked to Brian about the dangers of befriending strange men. Brian shrugged it off. “Dad, I know about stranger danger and bad touching. Carl is NOT like that, he’s nice. You can tell he’s a good person because Goblin loves him so much, and Goblin’s the BEST, smartest dog.”

“Brian,” Gary said quietly. “I’m sure Goblin’s a great dog, but you know what? Hitler had a great dog and he loved him, and I’m sure the dog loved him back. A good dog does NOT make this vagrant a good person. Please stay away from him, Brian!”
“NO!” shouted Brian, and he pushed back his chair. “Carl is my friend and I love Goblin! Why do you always have to spoil everything? I HATE YOU!”
That night, Gary made a decision. He was going to solve this problem his own way…

That Saturday, Brian woke up early to the sound of anxious barking. He thought sleepily, “That sounds just like Goblin!”

Brain jumped out of bed and looked out of his window. It WAS Goblin, and he was standing on the porch barking anxiously and looking very unhappy.

“Goblin!” Brian cried as he opened the door, and immediately the dog ran to him. Goblin put his head in Brian’s lap and started whining. “What’s wrong, boy? Where’s Carl?”

But the dog just whined and shivered so Brian decided to do something he’d always been afraid to do before — go to his dad’s work and ask for his help.

Gary was stunned when he saw Brian at the precinct with the dog by his side. “Brian!” he gasped. “What are you doing here? How did you get here?”

“Dad!” he cried. “I think something bad happened to Carl. Goblin came looking for me and he’s very scared…” But Goblin wasn’t looking scared, he was looking up at Brian’s dad and growling.

Brian had never heard Goblin growl before. “Dad!” he asked. “What have you done?”

Gary flushed. “Carl was loitering near a school and he was warned off twice, so we arrested him!”

“But dad!” Brain cried. “He did nothing wrong! He’s not well, he needs help…You don’t know anything about him! He’s a veteran and he was in the bomb squad and he worked with sniffer dogs to find explosives. That’s why Goblin’s so well trained. He’s a good man and you arrested him because he’s sick!”

“He’s not SICK!” Gary cried angrily. “He’s a bum!”

Brian had tears in his eyes. “No, dad,” he said softly. “He doesn’t drink or anything, and most of the time he talks to people who aren’t there. He needs help.”
Gary was ashamed of himself, mostly because he couldn’t admit that there was a part of him that was jealous of Carl and his easy friendship with his son.

He did some investigating and discovered that Carl had a sister in a neighboring state who had been looking for him for years. He contacted Carl’s sister and she was overjoyed.

She took Carl home and enrolled him in an outpatient mental health clinic immediately. Goblin went too, of course. Brian missed Carl, but mostly he missed Goblin.

Then one day his dad came home with a big grin on his face and a strange lump under his jacket. He lifted out a wriggling puppy and presented it to Brian. “There you go,” he said. “You have to name him!”

Brian started crying, he was so happy. “Goblin,” he gasped. “His name is Goblin Two!”

What can we learn from this story?

Don’t make assumptions about people before you know who they are. Gary assumed Carl was a drunk and a danger before he knew anything about him.
Kindness and compassion are the greatest of virtues. Brian’s empathy led him to befriend Carl, and he helped him find his way back home.

My Mother-in-Law Rewrote Our Wedding Invitations – Karma Handed Her the RSVP

Planning a wedding is supposed to be fun, right? Well, it wasn’t for me. Everything started off great. Mark and I agreed we wanted something small and simple. But when his mom, Linda, got involved, things took a turn.

Linda is one of those people who always knows best. She has an opinion on everything—how to cook, raise kids, and now, how to plan a wedding. Mark, my sweet, loyal husband, always says, “She’s just trying to help.” Sure, but her “help” usually means taking over.

An elderly lady | Source: Midjourney

An elderly lady | Source: Midjourney

The first major problem? The invitations.

When Mark and I picked out our wedding invitations, we were so happy. They were simple and minimalist, just like we wanted. We liked the clean design—nothing fancy, just our style. I remember showing them to Linda, hoping she’d smile and say something nice. Instead, she wrinkled her nose like she had smelled something awful.

“This is what you’re sending out?” she asked, holding up the sample like it was a piece of trash.

A wedding invitation | Source: Pexels

A wedding invitation | Source: Pexels

“Yes, we love it,” I said, forcing a smile. I could already feel the tension rising in my chest.

“It’s so… plain,” Linda replied, not even trying to hide her disapproval. “You know, people will think you didn’t put any effort into this. You should really go with something more… elegant.”

I wanted to say something sharp, but Mark gave me that look. You know the one, where his eyes plead, please don’t start anything. So, I swallowed my words and nodded, even though my stomach was turning.

A man with a side eye | Source: Pexels

A man with a side eye | Source: Pexels

A few days later, I thought things had blown over. Linda hadn’t mentioned the invitations again, so I figured we were in the clear. Boy, was I wrong.

One afternoon, Mark and I were sitting in the kitchen when he casually mentioned, “Mom said she made some changes to the invitations.”

“Wait, what?” I asked, my voice going up a notch.

“She just tweaked a few things,” Mark said, shrugging. “She’s excited. You know how she is.”

An upset woman | Source: Pexels

An upset woman | Source: Pexels

“What do you mean tweaked?” I demanded.

Mark scratched the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable. “She hired a calligrapher and added some flourishes. She also, uh, changed the wording a bit.”

I felt my face heat up. “She what?”

“She just wanted to make them look nicer,” Mark said, trying to stay calm. “She thought it would be a nice touch.”

A beautiful wedding invitation | Source: Pexels

A beautiful wedding invitation | Source: Pexels

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Mark, we didn’t ask her to do that! Those were our invitations, and now she’s completely changed them!”

He sighed. “I know, I know. But what’s done is done. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Mark, she hijacked our wedding invitations! And you’re okay with this?”

A shouting upset woman | Source: Pexels

A shouting upset woman | Source: Pexels

As if that wasn’t bad enough, Linda didn’t stop at redesigning the invitations. She went ahead and added people Mark and I didn’t even know. Old work friends, neighbors, and distant relatives we hadn’t seen in years suddenly made the cut. It was like Linda was planning a completely different wedding than the one we wanted.

“Why are we inviting people we don’t even know?” I asked Mark when I saw the list.

“She just thought it would be nice to include more people,” Mark explained, still defending her. “You know, so the wedding feels bigger.”

An apologetic man | Source: Pexels

An apologetic man | Source: Pexels

“Bigger?” I scoffed. “We wanted a small wedding! Why is she adding people we’ve never met?”

Mark rubbed his temples, looking stressed. “She’s excited, okay? She just wants to help.”

“Help?” I was furious. “This isn’t helping, Mark. She’s taking over!”

I spent the rest of the night fuming, going over the new guest list, and thinking about how our simple wedding was spiraling out of control. Every time I tried to talk to Mark about it, he’d say the same thing: “She’s just trying to be involved.”

A couple arguing | Source: Pexels

A couple arguing | Source: Pexels

But I didn’t want her “involvement.” I wanted our wedding, not hers.

Things reached a breaking point when Linda called to gush about the invitations. She went on and on about the gold envelopes and the elegant calligraphy, hiring a professional to do it. She even bragged about how she had included her “special friends.”

“Oh, it’s going to be such a beautiful wedding!” she exclaimed. “Everyone will be so impressed with the invitations!”

An upset woman talking to an elderly lady | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman talking to an elderly lady | Source: Midjourney

I could barely hold it together. “Linda, you didn’t even ask us before changing the invitations.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. Then she said, “Well, I just thought they needed a little… improvement. You’ll thank me later.”

I hung up the phone, shaking with anger. This wasn’t her wedding. It was mine and Mark’s. But Linda had decided to take matters into her own hands.

An angry dark-haired woman | Source: Midjourney

An angry dark-haired woman | Source: Midjourney

Mark tried to calm me down later that night. “She’s just excited. Let’s not make this into a big fight.”

“Mark, she’s hijacked everything!” I snapped. “What are we supposed to do now? Just go along with it?”

Mark looked down, clearly uncomfortable. “Maybe we can just… send out her version. What’s the harm?”

A couple arguing in their living room | Source: Pexels

A couple arguing in their living room | Source: Pexels

I stared at him in disbelief. “What’s the harm? This is our wedding. Not hers.”

I had had enough.

One night, after Mark had gone to bed, I sat down at the kitchen table with our original wedding invitations. They were simple, just the way we wanted, with clean lines and no frills. I smiled as I ran my fingers over the paper. These were the invitations we had chosen—our wedding invitations, not Linda’s over-the-top version.

A woman mailing invitations | Source: Midjourney

A woman mailing invitations | Source: Midjourney

I went through the guest list Linda had created. There were so many names I didn’t even recognize. Her old work friends, people from her book club, distant relatives we hadn’t seen in years. I tossed that list aside and grabbed our original one with the people we actually wanted to be there.

The next day, while Linda was busy boasting about her “perfect” invitations, I quietly slipped out to the post office. I mailed our original invitations to the people we cared about. No confrontation, no drama, just a silent fix to the problem.

Mailing invitations | Source: Pexels

Mailing invitations | Source: Pexels

The big day finally arrived. The sun was shining, the sky was clear, and everything was just as we had imagined it. Mark and I stood hand in hand, feeling a sense of calm wash over us. Our closest friends and family were there, just the way we had wanted. The simple, intimate wedding we’d dreamed of was happening, and it was perfect.

Karma hit during the reception. Linda was mingling, her eyes scanning the room. I watched from across the room as her smile started to falter. She was counting heads, and I could see the confusion slowly spread across her face.

Confused elderly lady at a wedding reception | Source: Midjourney

Confused elderly lady at a wedding reception | Source: Midjourney

Linda had gone all out preparing for her VIPs—seating cards, special menu items, even personalized favors. But all those seats sat empty, and she had to awkwardly explain to the people at the table why half her guests weren’t there.

She hurried over to Mark, pulling him aside.

An elderly woman talking to her son | Source: Midjourney

An elderly woman talking to her son | Source: Midjourney

“Mark,” she whispered urgently, “where are the Thompsons? And Carol? And my cousin Maggie? They all said they were coming!”

Mark blinked. “I don’t know, Mom. Did they RSVP?”

“Of course they did!” Linda snapped, her voice rising. “I spoke to them myself!”

An angry woman at a table | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman at a table | Source: Midjourney

I couldn’t help but smirk as I eavesdropped on the conversation. Linda was getting more and more frantic as she listed off the names of her “special guests.” One by one, she started texting and calling them, trying to figure out where they were. And one by one, she got the same answer: “We never got an invitation.”

The realization hit her like a ton of bricks. Her fancy invitations had never gone out, and she was left scrambling to explain why half her guest list was missing. The look on her face was priceless.

A shocked elderly woman | Source: Pexels

A shocked elderly woman | Source: Pexels

I watched as she put on a brave face, trying to act like everything was fine. But every time someone asked about her missing friends, I could see her smile crack just a little more. She spent the rest of the night in damage control mode, but the truth was out—her grand plans had fallen apart, and there was nothing she could do about it.

An upset elderly lady | Source: Midjourney

An upset elderly lady | Source: Midjourney

When it comes to family members who overstep, especially in emotional situations like weddings, you have to protect your own space. It’s easy to let things slide to keep the peace, but sometimes, you have to take control and quietly reclaim what’s yours.

The wedding was our first real test of that, and we passed with flying colors.

A happy couple at a wedding | Source: Pexels

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