I've no reason why I shouldn't believe in past lives.It's difficult,too difficult to grow up in old Florence and not to.I had for a while a funny 'relationship'with the medieval lady I owe my name to(Annalena di Malatesta).My mother,in turning catholic,had to deny any possible belief in past lives,or ghosts.The Vatican firmly commands so.So,when she suddenly stopped going to pray in her favourite convent,I was amazed and asked her why.I found out that that convent was an 'old'infested house and it was arranged as a convent because someone thought that nuns were the right people to get rid of the matter.Problem was,every time at a certain hour my mother,kneeled down in payer,would see always the same 'ghost'doing always the same thing for a couple of seconds,and then go.For the way we are in the family,we would have found it perfectly normal.But it clashed with her being a catholic,and not seeing the thing anymore was her only right way for her to overcome the 'sin' of seeing them.It's also normal for many cultures that the soul of a dying relative goes to visit all his family one by one before parting.It happened to friends,it happened to me.When my granfather(very young and healthy)died,I felt it.I was ten.Two days after it,mum approached me to finally tell me.I anticipated her,saying quietly"I know,Grandfather is dead".And for the first days I didn't cry or stuff,because that quiet awareness stayed with me. I have a dear,dear friend I grew up with.Two years ago she had pneumonia,and started dreaming her daughter.She told me peacefully the thing,and I couldn't get it.She doesn't have a daughter,of course.She replied that she'll have her one day.She described her features,her name and the fact that she would come in the early morning,sit at the end of the bed and stare at her for a while,and then go.Knowing the person,you'd believe her...