I learned the meaning of the word when I was sixteen.

Our high school in Midland, Texas, opened in 1962 with around 2,000 students. At the start of my junior year, a young woman joined the faculty and started a debate team. Maridell Fryar and her husband Jack would become a force in education.

As a C- student joining a small group of National Honor Society members, one might think I would be intimidated. The fact is smart kids were used to being around dumber kids. Everything worked out just right.

Serendipity was the first big word I remember learning. I thought it was really cool that I knew what the word meant, and a whole lot of folks didn’t.

Over the years, the irony of the word’s meaning became clear to me. Being on the debate team taught me the meaning of words. More importantly, it taught me how to organize my thinking on any subject.

Today, sixty-two years later, I still rejoice at the unexpected gift Maridell Fryar and the smart kids brought to my life.

After reading this little piece, Mrs. Fryar, now 89, said, “Jack and I were the real beneficiaries of knowing all those kids over all those years.”

Serendipity. Great word, but I couldn’t spell it then, and dang sure can’t spell it now, don’t be fooled by spell check.