To change the way of man's thinking may be more difficult than to
change the whole world. I know a girl who managed it. The girl who
wanted to change the world and changed my view on life without her
realizing it. The girl has two sacred words .Panta rei. engraved on her
tomb. We were an inseparable couple already from childhood, friends for life
and death. We grew up together, shared good and bad times together,
walked on the roofs of houses together, counted stars in the sky together
and thought about rainbow chasing together. We went to the same
school, to the same class, sat at the same desk.
Eva was always there for me to lean on. We loved each other but not like
lovers do, but like people who have always something to talk about, who
can rely on each other and who can find support and understanding in
Eva was my mother, father, sister, little Buddha to me. One could stroll
in Paris with her, fly in the balloon, climb Mt. Everest with her without
even moving from an armchair.
When we were ten, Eva's hair began gradually vanishing. Day by day she
had less and less of them. At the age of twelve she was completely bald.
If Eva's nickname had not been 'Pumpkin head', she would have not been
bothered at all. I remember how glad she was when she did not have to
comb or wash her hair.
Eva often talked to me about her adventures at the hospital; about some
kind of treatment, about terribly nice doctors but never talked about her
disease. I was never taking her for a sick person, for me she was always
the same smiling Eva whom I would be ready to...