I'm twenty years old—almost twenty-one—and my name is Pina.
My childhood was spent moving from one boarding school to another, where I received care and learned to walk for the first time. Because I haven't told you yet: polio left me with one leg affected.
But I don't complain. I'm fine as I am. I'm a girl like any other. I don't lack for anything; except one thing, the most important: the love I hope to give soon to the boy I love.
As I said, I was in many boarding schools; I knew so many girls, and I still remember some of them. I wish I could see them again. We were so small! With short hair and identical dresses, we cared for each other even though our days were full of childhood squabbles.
Many years have passed since then. Here in Rome, I discovered what real friendship is. Because I believe in friendship! It's something beautiful. It makes you feel happy, and you can give that person all the affection and understanding in your heart.
You can confide all your sorrows to a friend, all your little secrets, all your thoughts—the ones our parents often don't understand.
I met Maria, my first real friend, here in Rome six years ago. Even though our personalities were different, we understood each other. You won't believe it, but when we had disagreements, it hurt me. I know it's foolish, but it bothered me—though it always passed quickly.
We still write to each other because she lives in Naples.
This past summer I spent a month at her house to keep her company; she'd had surgery on her spine not long before and had to spend the whole summer in bed.
Take my word for it: lying in bed is terrible! I've been through it. It feels like time and pain will never end.
It was a sacrifice for me, staying in the same room all the time. But I did it gladly. I did it because Maria needed my friendship.
We spent a fantastic month together, even with so little. Full of laughter, remembering the days we'd spent here in Rome. We laughed about it all, and we discovered that we'd both changed, that we had new problems—and we discovered that our friendship is stronger than ever. I hope it stays that way.
And Giovanna, the girl who asked me to write this story—what can I say?! I have no words to show her my friendship. She's the best girl in the world. She's so dear and understanding, and I don't even know how much I love her.
Of course, I won't list everything she's done for me—I'd never finish. But when she reads these lines, she'll know how much I owe her and how much affection I'm giving her.
- Pina, 1975