come over and make some photographs.

Mind you, she knew nothing about Eileen at this stage, but when she walked in, accompanied by a burly cab driver burdened with her clothes, Eileen met her. The bouffant black dress, the high heels, and the carefully applied makeup passed the cabby'a casual inspection, but the deep masculine voice did not, and we laughed heartily at his double-take, after he had left.

Ah,

You see, I had decided on the shock approach. Either Elsie would tolerate, or approve, or understand, or she would not. Utopia, Elsie did not tolerate--she understood, and she approved. Not all at once, not deep within her heart, but at least on the surface she made the evening a complete success. Long afterwards, in exchanging confidences, she revealed that at first her reaction was the usual one--what the heck is this? Let's do it for kicks! Drink up and be merry...it may turn out to be fun!

It was definitely fun...we still treasure the pictures we made that night. But her capable mind, with its tremendous IQ, had to know more than I could tell her, or my obvious delight could show her. She did research, thoroughly and systematically, she weighed the pros and cons, and made her own decision.

Without announcing her decision (I didn't even know she was questioning me!) she suddenly pulled out all the stops. Come to my place, she said, share my pink boudoir, my home, my entire ward- robe...my life, It was like an invitation to paradise.

Quite often I would get fully dressed in my home, take a cab to hers, saunter haughtily into her building, and spend hours in supreme happiness. We gossiped, sewed, and listened to her records we played cards, read books and magazines, made photographs...she listened to all of my corny jokes, we shared our life histories, we fell in Love. Not overnight, not suddenly, but logically, clear- ly and without reservation. The kind of Love wherein the faults of one are minimized by the other, and the great features of each are magnified by sincere appreciation.

I call myself the most fortunate of people, that all of this happened to me...to be able to be myself, to be able to share the minor triumphs that come with every day living...to be wanted, and to be Loved.

And Eileen? Call her radiant, call her..Alive. How else