I have done this already with something that actually happened to me. I wrote about it and entered the essay in a contest, and it made it to the shortlist. Unfortunately, I didn't win, but it was a huge accomplishment considering the contest was all across Canada. Here it is:

We were waiting for the cake when Zoey, a close family friend decided to sit next to me on the couch. I was at my cousin's birthday party, and not having the greatest time. For the duration of the party, I had been unable to move from my seat. My cerebral palsy meant that I couldn't walk independently, and needed help to move from place to place.

There were others sitting on the couch with me, but it didn't make a difference. My cousin Katie was sharing personal information with certain guests of the party, one by one. I wasn't sure if I was allowed to join this conversation, and without an invitation I assumed not. So I sat, unintentionally listening to a conversation I desperately wanted to get away from.

No one seemed to notice my predicament. The rest of the girls were absorbed in their own conversations. I didn't think of asking anyone to help me off the couch. Everyone was enjoying themselves, and the last thing I wanted to do was interrupt the flow of the party.

My feelings were building on top of each other, and I felt as though I would burst. Every passing second my face became more and more revealing. I couldn't believe I'd done this to myself. I sat in silence for more than two hours, and held back tears. Just when it seemed all was about to come crashing down, it was announced that the cake was coming.

As everyone gathered around the table to wait for the cake, Zoey came up to me.

She said, "Let me sit next to you."

She faced me and said, "You are very quiet today."

I replied, "Yeah." There was a pause as we both tried to think of what to say next.

I came up with nothing, but Zoey said, "So Grade 12 next year! I'm so excited for you!"

I replied with another, "Yeah." There was another pause. I knew I wasn't going to be able to tell her what was bothering me. She sensed, accepted, and respected that.

So Zoey smiled and said, "I am so proud of you." She then wrapped her arms around me in a hug.

As I did the same, my eyes welled up with tears. I went through this party silent and unable to interact with others. I felt ignored and excluded. However, Zoey's hug gave me a place to belong: in her arms. Suddenly, it didn't matter what happened before this moment, because someone finally noticed me. Her words were exactly what I needed to let go of the loneliness I had felt.

Zoey got up to sing "Happy Birthday" and I wiped the rest of my tears. The lights were turned off and the candles illuminated those around the cake. As the singing began, I knew I would remember this party not as the time I didn't belong, but the time where a person gave me a place to belong and so much more.