I have a friend who’s a minister. She lives in Dallas, Texas, and in the 15 years I’ve known her, she’s worked very hard to cultivate a spirit of gratitude and grace in her life.

She used to work on movie sets in Los Angeles in her younger years, but she developed chronic fatigue syndrome, which saw her moving home to Dallas in her early 30s to live with her parents again.

She was sick for 10 whole years-the most important years-the years the rest of us were developing careers and getting married and starting homes and families. She missed all of that.

She never complained. She saw those years as an opportunity to cultivate gratitude for what she did have-her comfortable old bedroom back at home, the chance to become an important mentor to her young nieces and nephews, and to enjoy time with her wonderful Italian mother who was always whipping up good things to eat in the kitchen, and planting beautiful gardens in the backyard.

My friend struggled to get well, using unconventional methods to treat herself. In those years, chronic fatigue syndrome was a new mystery to medicine and they didn’t have much to offer her. It made sense to her to eat well, to take herbs and supplements and to rest.

She had a lot of time to ponder big questions and that’s when she cultivated a relationship with her own idea of spirit — a bit of a departure from the Catholic upbringing she’d had.

Once she got well, she studied for years to become a minister, all the while struggling financially and continuing to live at home. While I raised my family and moved to a succession of bigger houses and bought newer cars over a few decades, she stayed at home, praying her car would last another day, getting well, and working for a few nonprofits as she studied for the ministry.

Today she is indeed a minister who works for several inner city schools, teaching children the art of flourishing in a difficult world.

At the age of 55, she recently moved into her own apartment and bought a new car. And every day she teaches children from poor backgrounds how to find that quiet place inside themselves amidst all the chaos in their lives.

I tell you this story because I want you to know this woman was rarely ever seen without a smile on her face.

Every day, no matter how hard she had to dig, she found something to be grateful for. Whether it was her mother’s homemade pasta, a roof over her head, a great day with her family, or a walk by her favorite lake, she never failed to find the silver lining.

Today she posted a video on Facebook that took viewers on a tour of her mother’s garden in the backyard of the old house in Dallas.

She pointed out the bench where she had dragged herself everyday when she was sick so she could feel the sunshine on her face.

She showed us the swing where she pushed her nieces and nephews when they were little, where they sat and had big talks about the world.

She showed us the two old trees that sheltered her in those years, the big pots of pansies that appeared every spring, the little stone paths she’d skipped over as a child.

She had such genuine love for that garden, for her family, for her journey. And the thing that gets me is that her journey wasn’t about big piles of cash, or a fast-paced career, or granite countertops.

What she proudly boasted about in the video was pride for her family, for her love of the simple things-flowers, trees, children, sunshine, homemade sauce. She boasted about getting well, about becoming a minister, about the neon green leaves on that pecan tree.

And I couldn’t help but marvel at how rich she is: she is truly the richest person I know.

She has everything she could ever need in life: a strong and loving family; good relationships; an appreciation for nature; a strong desire to do good in the world.

I know so many people who think it’s all about their trajectory in life: the money, the promotion, the constant making their way to ever higher and more influential plateaus.

What most of us don’t realize is that it’s possible to be the happiest person alive living in your childhood bedroom with an illness and an old car.

Because it’s not about what you have on the outside, but always how you feel on the inside.

People tell us that all the time, but do we really get it?

Just watching my friend walk through that garden today, it dawned on me that if we can find a way to be grateful for a purple pansy during the worst time in our lives, maybe we could all live happier lives.

It might just be that easy.