Eleanor Rigby and All the Lonely People


Today, as I was walking along the way, I saw her again. Yes, there she was — I saw her yesterday, too. And perhaps, almost certainly, I will see her tomorrow.
She’s always somewhere. She haunts me. I turn the corner, there she is — Eleanor.
As I reach for my box of Cheerios in the air-conditioned supermarket, I hear them singing about her on the radio — Eleanor… Eleanor Rigby.
I do not escape her.
Sometimes she fools me with disguises, and at first I do not realize it is really her. She dresses like the teller at my bank; she talks politely and smiles. And then I catch that familiar look in her eyes and I realize — it’s her, it’s Eleanor.
Or sometimes at a party, everyone seems so happy — she’s the center of the crowd, talking loudly and laughing, but then she turns her back for a moment and I catch a glimpse of that look on her face and I realize again — it’s Eleanor. She’s wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door. She’s trying to be someone else again. Sometimes she may even fool me completely and I never realize that I am talking with her.
She has many faces...
Perhaps you’ve noticed her, too. Perhaps you have caught a glimpse of her pale, sad face peering at you from behind her curtains as you passed her home. Perhaps you know her. Does she haunt you, too?

Come and Visit!

One of our greatest desires is to share our life with others. There are many ways to get to know us.