They say there's one in every family, one who is different from the rest. There's the one who looks like dad's side or who has the only set of brown eyes or who uniquely displays a talent for music or art.

Usually, there's one child who's more athletic, or less; more academically inclined, or not at all; more outgoing or wouldn't say "boo" to a ghost.

Of my four children, Betsy is the different one. She's the only blonde. She's the only child who isn't easily distracted. She was the only 13-year-old who wanted a George Foreman Fat Reducing Grill for her birthday (because she was the only one who liked to cook).

Betsy is the one we dubbed "Little Miss Independent" at the age of 2. Not only because she tried to scramble eggs on the kitchen floor or because she tended to wander off and play in the homes of people we didn't know, or because she learned to ride a two-wheeler at the age of 4, on the same day as her older sister, who was 6. No, this was a title she earned because she was self-assured and willing to solve her own problems, right from the get-go.

Betsy's independent streak goes beyond her self-directed behavior and reflects a tendency to take stock, consider her options and decide for herself what seems best. At the core of this independence is the belief that she is exactly the girl God intends her to be.

As an adolescent, that knack for critical thinking displayed itself in the color of her hair ribbons, not necessarily selected to match anything in particular, and in her devotion to alternative-rock bands that none of her friends had ever heard of.

At a time when teenage girls seem more desperate than ever to fit in by sporting exactly the right pair of Ugg boots with the prescribed leggings from Abercrombie & Fitch and the latest sweatshirt from Aeropostale, Betsy relished the moments when her friends ask, "Are you really wearing that?"

Conformity always seemed to Betsy something of a sellout. Continued...