?THEY WILL CONNECT,? I ALWAYS SAY. I sound confident ?certain, even?as though I would really be surprised if they don?t.

The young ones have heard this from me more than once. And far too often, I sense, as some of them repeat the phrase just as I am about to dish out the familiar four words. It is a piece of wisdom I have taken the liberty of using to illustrate that though the path may not seem straight, wise hindsight will tell you that it was a connected path nonetheless.

I am a storyteller; I use stories to drive a point. I am a trained mentor that way, a bucket full of anecdotes and examples for anyone ready to listen. I am a teller of others? stories (more than my own) which I have adapted, understood and delivered as a way of imparting what wisdom 26 years may have given me. My listeners take the wisdom well, as any forlorn patient would drops of medicine.

It was a little over a month ago when I had a taste of my own medicine. That is to say, prophecy fulfilled, the dots connected without my ever noticing they were doing so.

To understand this story, it is best I start from a point 18 years ago. I am in my grade-school classroom (it was the second grade, and I was eight years old) sitting among my classmates. Our origami teacher, the mother of a Japanese classmate, has come with her square pieces of paper wrapped in a silky pouch.

She comes weekly on a voluntary basis to generously share her love for the craft. Today, we are making origami cameras, she announces in broken English. I am intrigued: observing and folding, imagining and smiling. At that moment, I thought what fun this lady must have teaching kids.

(Granted, I was still a kid then and this thought was as raw as it could be. But the thought stayed with me, refined by years and age. I kept that image to myself, the one of me grown-up with kids all around me.)

The story takes a 10-year leap to me in my high school uniform, yellow and checkered. We are fourth-year students taking an aptitude test for college that would determine our profession. The questions are a blur today (I don?t recall what was asked; I do, however, recall what was revealed). The guidance counselor discusses the results and hands out a paper that contains careers and a number next to it. My music preference has scored a zero, further proving that the musical world will perhaps never be ready for my singing skills, or lack thereof. Business and teaching have scored the highest.

The summer after high school, my parents approach me about joining a speech class. I feign boredom at the thought, and instead spend the summer in the company of friends.

How the tide turns. A few years later, I thrive in the corporate world (my career aptitude test must have been right) and, in search of added activity, I voluntarily seek out a public speaking organization. I fall in love with the thought of delivering speeches, and the rush it gives me. I find a thrill in the activity which I can and cannot live without?a madness to challenge myself beyond declamation and memorization, into the world of impromptu speaking. I throw myself into competitions, young as I am compared to the other competitors. In the midst of contest, I make it a personal mission to instill good communication to the world. Or at least those that would listen to what I have to say.

Kids. Teaching. Speech. They are dots in my life that have little to do with each other, save for my passion for each of them.

They might as well have remained dots if not for a serendipitous meeting I had a month ago. A friend led me to a school which led me to a meeting which led to me now. I have kept my day job (don?t quit your day job, they say) and I have connected the dots. Every Saturday for the past few weeks, I have been teaching speech and drama classes to kids.

I wish I could tell you that I knew all along that it would come to this point. I wish I could tell you with confidence?certainty, even?that it would. But I have just never had that much faith in the phrase until it had happened to me. Life is funny that way; it catches you by surprise at the most opportune and humbling moment. Perhaps I enjoyed my classes as a kid, leading me to love teaching, and consequently finding my strength as a communicator and thus wishing to share it with kids. Full circle? There you go.

The other day, I conducted a speech class for a group of seven-year olds. I had the brilliant idea of letting them talk about imaginary photos they would take of their friends. ?Using what, Teacher Carmel,? they asked curiously.

I brought out a piece of square paper and began to teach them how to make origami cameras.

Tagline: Carmel Valencia, 26, works for a beauty company and is taking life one dot at a time.