For me lucky is not quite the right word, but I do not now what would be a better one.
I am very grateful to God that He let me be born in a family that believed, even although my parents were not regular church goers (which probably is why I am a regular attendent at Mass).
Mother, aunts, grandmothers etc. read me bible stories from picture books for children before I learned to read, taught me to pray before sleeping at night, Christmas and Easter were very, very big events. I still tend to visulize the Virgin Mary exactly as she looks in my mother's paper nativity scene which was a focal point of my childhood Christmases.
I have often wondered why it is the women in the family who talk to small children about God and the Baby Jesus? No man, in my childhood did so, unless he was a Reverend or a priest!
To me believing in God means that the difficult times of my life did not leave me hopeless, even when I was greatly distressed and the good times may actually be better too - but how does one judge that? After all, I do not feel what others feel.