I have always been fascinated by the study of human nature. </p><p>I have learned that while some people may seem but brief chapters in the book of your life, they can teach lifelong lessons. I am going to share some of their stories. </p><p>Eleanor. Just Eleanor</p><p>When I was about 8, we moved to a huge home in the suburbs of Michigan. It was at the mailboxes I met the first member of the family that was to play such a pivotal role in my life. A family that taught me lessons so worthy that I carry them with me still today.</p><p>She was about my height. She had short brown hair, and she wore but a smudge of lipstick. I approached her with a smile, thrilled at the prospect of a friend. Age had never crossed my mind. I introduced myself with my full name. She responded, "I am Eleanor, just Eleanor."</p><p>I was soon knocking at Eleanor's door. </p><p>An older woman with blue grey hair answered the door. Eleanor appeared with a meek smile, and I came into the Lesley home for the first time. We each sat on one of her maple twin beds. Realizing Eleanor was too shy to start the conversation, I offered, "Your grandmother seems really nice."</p><p>Eleanor laughed. "Silly, she is not my grandmother. She is my mother."</p><p>I thought for a moment. My mother looked so much younger. "Eleanor, how old are you?" I asked.</p><p>Eleanor laughed again, "We will have to call mother in. I can never remember things like that." </p><p>And so she called her in, while I mused over how someone could not know how old they were. </p><p>When Mrs. Lesley came into the room, she listened and smiled, "Why Eleanor, you are thirty."</p><p>I did not think then about the fact that the new friend I acquired was 22 years older than me or why she would want to play with me. I had a friend! For that first week we watched old movies, played war and fish, ate bowls of creamed corn and grilled cheese sandwiches. Theirs was a peaceful home. Eleanor smiled all the time now, always willing to do what I wished, laughing or clapping at things I said. Mrs. Lesley would look at me sometimes, and say, "It is so nice to have you here." I felt warm and safe when I was there. </p><p>Finally, after about a week of being across the street almost full time, my mother decided she should call and introduce herself to the family across the street. They talked for a while and my mother placed the phone down. That night at dinner my mother brought the conversation with Mrs. Lesley up, "Jack, you know Joyce has been playing across the street at that new family's house. This person that Joyce is playing with is 30 years old, and she is retarded."</p><p>What did retarded mean? I wondered as I heard my father say, "Well, my daughter does not play with retards!"</p><p>To be continued, and until next time may all your news be good news.