2
So I lived my life alone and had no one to talk to, until I had an accident with my plane in the Desert of Sahara, six years ago. Something broke in my engine. And I had with me neither a mechanic nor any passengers. So I began to repair it all alone. It was a question of life or death for me: I had very little drinking water.
The first night, I went to sleep on the sand, a thousand miles away from any town. I was more isolated than a sailor on a raft in the middle of the ocean. Thus you can imagine my amazement, at sunrise, when I was awakened by an odd little voice. It said:
“Will you please draw me a sheep!”
“What!”
“Draw me a sheep!”
I jumped to my feet and looked carefully all around me. And I saw a most extraordinary small person who stood there. He was examining me with great seriousness.
Remember, I crashed in the desert a thousand miles from any town. The child did not seem hungry or thirsty or frightened. He was not looking like a child lost in the middle of the desert. When at last I was able to speak, I said to him:
“But—what are you doing here?”
And he repeated, very slowly:
“Will you please draw me a sheep.”
It was absurd: in danger of death he wanted me to draw a sheep! I could not disobey. I took out of my pocket a sheet of paper and my pen. But then I remembered that I was studying geography, history, arithmetic and grammar, and I told the boy that I did not know how to draw. He answered to me:
“That doesn’t matter[1]. Draw me a sheep.”
But I couldn’t. So I drew for him one of my drawings. It was the boa from the outside. And I was astounded to hear:
“No, no, no! I do not want an elephant inside a boa. A boa is very dangerous, and an elephant is very big. Where I live, everything is very small. What I need is a sheep. Draw me a sheep.”
So then I made a drawing.
He looked at it carefully, and then said:
“No. This sheep is very sickly. Make me another.”
So I made another drawing.
My friend smiled gently and indulgently.
“You see yourself,” he said, “that this is not a sheep. This is a ram. It has horns.”
So then I drew once more.
But it was rejected too, just like the others.
“This one is too old. I want a sheep that will live a long time.”
By this time my patience was exhausted, because I wanted to repair my engine. So I drew a simple box and explained:
“This is his box. Your sheep is inside.”
I was very surprised to see the face of my young judge:
“That is exactly what I wanted! Do you think that this sheep will need much grass?”
“Why?”
“Because where I live everything is very small.”
“There will be enough grass for him,” I said. “It is a very small sheep.”
He bent his head over the drawing.
“Not so small… Look! He went to sleep.”
And that is how I met the little prince.
