Dreams Come True (anglický název pro Nebát se přát si)
Stories on searching for happiness in life
Water of Life
She holds it tight in her clasped hands, eyes glistening,
head bowed above it, telling it something. Golden hair
frames a scene I haven’t seen before. A meeting with death.
She walks away from us so we can’t hear what she is saying;
she starts to whisper. When I want to take off her jacket
later on, she doesn’t give up, she moves it from one hand to
another and cautions, “Watch out…its head mustn’t swing
from side to side too much!” It sounds almost like a warning
issued by my three-year-old, her eyes fixed on me.
She has found a dead bird. It is the end of April with
freezing nights and cold days, we are living fifteen hundred
meters above sea level. After three days spent stroking the
bird and putting it to sleep in its tiny little house for elves
behind a gutter, it looks as if it had died only a short while
ago. My husband tries to explain death to E-lisa. He has
already tried many times, using many illustrations taken
from the last moments of both animals and men, but to no
avail. Our three-year-old refuses to accept the finality of
death. Why? That is, why does she keep asking every time
my husband tells her that water cannot help it any more.
a passage from the third book of Blanka Milfait