So strange, looking back in the past, suddenly to understand that through your life there passed not one, and not two persons, and the whole tens and hundreds people. Someone from them was late for a long time, and someone hardly managed to touch your hand... To someone didn't get even your look, and someone on lips still had sweet from one thousand your kisses. So strange, looking back in the past, suddenly to understand that you always want to be better, more honest, more fair and are more good-natured, and as a result all the same there are those to whom you crossed the road. You want
to share pleasure with people, and people envy, you want to cry, and people start considering you weak. So strange, looking back in the past, suddenly to understand that the majority of us are able to lie, looking in eyes, and only small part sincerely decides to tell us "I love you", without taking away a look. Why we always suppress the finest from this, what is in our heart? So strange, looking back in the past, suddenly to understand that over time from memory persons are erased, names are forgotten, but events always remain. They temper us, they serve for us as a lesson. It
as the theatrical play which teaches us to skill of game. And people... all people same actors... simply good actors pass together with us from one play to another, and bad leave. So strange, looking back in the past, suddenly to understand that I which always seemed that understand people, in some of them nevertheless was mistaken and that people whom, appear, I will know eternity,
now from me moved away, and what I considered as "passersby" still near me.
You value people, which always with you and who will be able always to understand and to support you at a difficult moment...

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