My daughter didn’t talk to me for a week. I decided to give her a harsh reality check

It all started when my daughter, Jessica, came home from school one day with a gloomy look on her face. As a single mother, I’ve always tried to provide the best for her despite our financial limitations. This time, it wasn’t a new pair of shoes or a trendy outfit she was asking for – it was a $50 Stanley Cup, a branded water mug. Apparently, the girls at her school were obsessed with them, and not having one made her a target for bullying.

I was taken aback. Was it really that big of a deal? Could a simple water cup hold such power over her social life? “Mom, everyone has one,” she pleaded. “They make fun of me because I don’t. I just want to fit in.” My heart ached for her, but the price tag was steep for a water cup, and I couldn’t justify it. I provided her with everything she needed, but a $50 cup seemed excessive and unnecessary.

“No, Jess, we can’t afford that right now,” I said firmly. She stormed off to her room, slamming the door behind her. Days turned into a week, and her cold shoulder only grew colder. The silence was deafening, and the tension in the house was palpable.

The Standoff
Jessica’s attitude didn’t change. She talked to me but always with an undercurrent of anger and entitlement. She was stubborn, and her determination to make me cave was impressive, albeit frustrating. I provided for her needs – food, a clean house, clothes, a roof over her head, and a bed to sleep in. But her silent treatment continued, and I realized I needed to take a stand and teach her a lesson about gratitude and priorities.

So, I made a decision. The next day, Jessica came home from school with her usual cold greeting and went straight to her room. Moments later, I heard a heart-wrenching scream, “NO, NO… MOOOOOOM, MOOOOM PLEASE!”

The Harsh Lesson
I walked into her room to find her looking at an empty space where her bed used to be. “Mom, what did you do? Where is my bed?” she cried out, tears streaming down her face.

I hugged her tightly, tears welling up in my eyes. “Jessica, I love you, and I only want what’s best for you. It’s important to appreciate what you have and not let material things dictate your happiness.”

We moved her bed back into her room together, and the rift between us began to heal. The lesson was learned, and our bond grew stronger as a result. Jessica still faced challenges at school, but she no longer let the pressure of fitting in with material possessions affect her self-worth.

The Resolution
In the end, the experience brought us closer. Jessica learned the value of gratitude and resilience, and I learned the importance of standing firm in my decisions as a parent. The $50 Stanley Cup might have been a symbol of acceptance at school, but the real lesson lay in understanding that true worth isn’t measured by branded possessions.

ABANDONED STRAWBERRY HOUSE

The house was built in the late twenties of the twentieth century for banker Dimitar Ivanov and his wife Nadezhda Stankovic. Inside, the accent falls on the red marble fireplace located in the reception hall. There is a podium for musicians as well as crystal glasses on the interior doors. Several bedrooms, beautiful terraces, a large study room and service rooms. Nothing of the furniture is preserved, but it is known that high-class Sofia citizens at that time preferred furniture from Central and Western Europe.

The exterior is a large front yard facing the street, separated from the sidewalk by a beautiful wrought iron fence. Triple staircase to the entrance of the house, but it is always very impressive that the special portals for carriages and carriages on both sides of the yard. Even today I imagine a cabin with the members of the invited family entering the yard of the house through one portal, the horseshoes and the carriage staying in the space behind the house, specially tailored for that while waiting for the reception to end and go out again from the yard, but through the other portal.
 

Banker Ivanov’s family lived happily in the house, at least until 1944. After the war the property was nationalized and originally housed the Romanian embassy. Later in the year, the house was a commercial representation of the USSR in Bulgaria, as well as the headquarters of the administration of various communist structures of unclear purpose.
In the 90’s the house was restituted and returned to the heir of the first owner-banker Dimitar Ivanov. Since 2004 the property is the property of the director of Lukoil-Valentin Zlatev, who has not yet shown any relation to this monument of culture. The beautiful house once ruined for decades and is now sadly sad.

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