It's time for another topic, and the next topic in the queue — tattoos — just didn't seem appropriate for Christmas week. Then Clark and I took a friend out for a birthday lunch last Monday, and something she told us gave me a great idea for a topic to end the year.

She recounted the time a few years ago, when she had been assigned as a chaperone for our stake's youth conference. I don't know which conference this would have been — one where they went to Palmyra or Kirtland, or the one where they reconstructed Jerusalem on a stake member's farm (complete with a full-sized tabernacle), or the one where they built their own time machine and zoomed back to help Nephi construct his ship. (I am exaggerating the last one, but only slightly.)

Anyway, the kids were divided into groups so the young people would have the opportunity to spend the week making new friends from the stake rather than hanging around with the people in their own wards. I'm sure great care was taken to create those groups, but when everyone was standing in their respective “families” it was apparent that one group was not in the league with all the others. None of the “beautiful people” or the popular kids had ended up in this particular family. Virtually all the kids in the stake who might be considered misfits were corralled into this one herd.

As luck (or divine providence) would have it, this was the group our friend had been chosen to accompany.

Our friend quickly assessed the situation, and knew that the kids in her group were horrified to see themselves all lumped together as a collection of outcasts. She could see the horror on their faces as they looked at the other groups and then at their own. So she got their attention, and said to them, “We are going to have more fun than any of those other kids. By the time this youth conference is over, people are going to be coming over here and wishing they were in our group.”

These kids were teenagers, and you can guess what they did in response to her statement. They rolled their eyes. They didn't say anything, but their expressions said it all. “Yeah. Right. Do you think we're idiots? Nobody is going to want to be in our group. Even I don't want to be in my group.” Our friend had no idea why she had said what she'd said, but she determined to do everything in her power to make the experience as good for her kids as it could possibly be.

Then the miracle happened. Within a couple of hours, one of the “beautiful people” came up to her and — in full earshot of the youth she was leading — said, “Sister So-and-So, I wish I were in your group. Your group always has the most fun.” A few hours later, one of the popular boys came up and said the same thing.

And so the week progressed. Kids from the other groups would ask what her group was laughing about, or what they were doing that was so much fun. People would stand on the fringes of her group, hoping to be included. And the kids in her group — the ones who considered themselves to be the outcasts — were the insiders, perhaps for the first time in their lives.

“I learned a lesson from that,” our friend said. “Life is what you make it. If you decide that everything will work out, it will work out — even if you weren't given the best situation to begin with. Happiness is a choice.”

Our friend was right. Happiness is a choice. Some people who seem to have everything are despondent. Others, who seem to have nothing, have lives full of joy.

It was great to spend time with our friend and learn what life had taught her, but it made me want to hear other people's lessons. That's where you come in. This week, I'm asking for stories from your life — things you have experienced that have taught you valuable lessons.

If you have any experiences that taught you a valuable lesson and made you a better person, please send them to meridianmagazine@aol.com. Put something in the subject line to tell me your letter isn't spam. We'll publish the first responses next Monday. And when you write, be sure to include your full name, city and state or province. (If you'd rather be semi-anonymous, sign your name as “A Reader from Michigan ,” or “Sandy from Timbuktu .” The important thing is that we hear from you.)

Until next time — Kathy

“God allows us to experience the low points of life in order to teach us lessons we could not learn in any other way. The way we learn those lessons is not to deny the feelings but to find the meanings underlying them.”

Stanley Lindquist