Readers responded with lovely and sincere prose. I wish I could print all I received. Here are the highlights:

* "In my Rose Park neighborhood, I am as much a minority as the Hondurans next door, the gay man around the corner or the Polynesians across the street. Everyone is so friendly and we greet one another with a wave and a smile, even if we don't speak the same language. We each come from such different backgrounds and belief systems, but we all coexist peacefully. If that's not the definition of a utopian society, I don't know what is." - Kimberly Higginson, Salt Lake City

* "Our family loves our Harvard-Yale neighborhood. Unlike some of those of Utah's dominant faith who tend to insulate themselves against beliefs contrary to their own, who wish to see themselves always 'mirrored' in those with whom they associate, many Mormons of this neighborhood really like hanging out with friends of other faiths (or no particular religious persuasion). Not just 'tolerant' of others' beliefs, many hold genuine interest for others' world views.

"Only good will prevails on a Sunday when my kids and I, while walking over to our local LDS ward house, are greeted by a neighbor loading skis, heading up to the 'Wasatch Cathedral of the Pines and Powder' - a place I can readily attest to being highly conducive to communion with God." - Becky Owen, Salt Lake City

* "The city I live in suits me well. Taylorsville is energetic, hard-working, fun-loving and careful in spending money. I am the same and I know I won't be spending any of my hard-earned money in Draper any longer. I'll spend it where all are welcome." - No name given, Taylorsville

* "I grew up in the southwest corner of Salt Lake Valley. It was a rural area with cultivated (and wild) fields, farm animals and plenty of space between neighbors. I learned to work hard and to be dependable - the animals needed to be fed and so did my younger brothers and sisters. I learned that a neighbor would drop everything to help round up an escaped horse or to bring in the alfalfa before a storm. I learned to value and respect the land for all its bounty and beauty and how to gather up an injured hawk in my coat and how to take it to to be healed.

"I came to be an adult, a mother and a wife in this environment and I dare say I wouldn't be the same if I had grown up somewhere, anywhere, else. I wanted to raise my own family in this way and bought a home less than two miles from my childhood haunts. I tried to remain the same person but forces were at work that I did not understand and have yet to fully comprehend.

"The rural area with lots of fields became a starter-home community as farmers either sold or lost their land to developers. I learned that when money is involved, people aren't always good. The alfalfa was paved over and ordinances were passed to discourage farm animal ownership. I learned that many people are uncomfortable with nature and misunderstand its magnificence and importance. Houses were built untenably close together and I learned that 'fences make good neighbors' and that folks don't want to be bothered.

"Sometimes I feel like a rabbit who upon waking one day finds that her warren has become a fishbowl! In this place that taught me the values I hold dear, I have become a stranger." - Lorie Millward, Riverton

hmullen@sltrib.com