What Could Have Happened to the Little Prince?
(Based on the story “The Little Prince” by Antoine de Saint-Exupery, as translated from French by Katherine Woods.)
I wonder what happened to the Little Prince after that fateful night he left the pilot to go back home. What if…
The little prince, his golden curls swaying with each small step, his heart eager to be with his rose again, was finally back in his home planet. He was afraid when he was coming here, but now he takes every step with pleasure, and was eager to go back to the familiar tasks he once took for granted. He believed he would never want to return. He was wrong.
“Good morning,” the prince greeted the rose, his eagerness evident in his demeanor.
She was as beautiful as ever.
“You are back,” said the rose.
“Yes. It was wrong for me to leave you all alone. I ought never to have run away from you,” admitted the prince.
“But you did so, because you were unhappy,” replied the rose. “Remember that day when you were still with me, that day of the forty-four sunsets?” she added.
“I’m sorry. I had come to doubt you,” the prince confessed. “I had taken seriously words which were without importance, and it made me very unhappy. Words are indeed the source of misunderstandings.”
After a slight pause, he continued. “I ought not to have listened to you. I should have simply looked at you and breathed your fragrance. You perfumed all my planet. But I did not know how to take pleasure in all your grace. Your naive ways, which disturbed me so much, should only have filled my heart with tenderness and pity.”
He continued. “The fact is that I did not know how to understand anything! I ought to have judged by deeds and not by words. You cast your fragrance and your radiance over me… I ought to have guessed all the affections that lay behind all your poor little stratagems. You were so inconsistent! But I was too young to know how to love you…”
“I, too, had been silly,” the flower confessed. “I tormented you with matters that were of no importance, and realize that it may have been difficult for you to deal with. I ask for your forgiveness.”
“Of course I loved you,” she said in a quiet sweetness. “It was my fault that you did not know it all the while. But that is of no importance. But you – you were just as foolish as I.”
“I am certain you have discovered that there are thousands of others like me,” she said insecurely.
“On the planet Earth, I encountered five thousand in a single garden,” the prince replied. “At first I thought that you were indeed merely like them, and an ordinary passerby would think more so, but that would not be true. You are nothing like them. They may also be beautiful, but they are empty. For it is you that I have watered, you that I have put under the glass globe, you that I have sheltered behind the screen, you that I have listened to, when you grumbled, boasted, or even at times when you said nothing. Because you are my rose.”
The prince assured her, “There is nothing common about you. You are unique in all the world. I see you not only with my eyes, for what is essential is invisible to the eye. I see you with my heart, and only with the heart can one see rightly. You have tamed me.”
“So why have you come back?” asked the rose.
“You are ephemeral,” replied the prince. “And I have come back to tend to your needs, as I had done before I had left.”
“That will no longer be necessary,” the rose replied.
“Oh!” the prince remarked. He could not ascertain if what she said was due to her pride or naivety. After all, she believes that her four thorns could defend herself from tigers.
“Why is that?” the prince queried.
“My butterfly now tends to my needs,” the rose replied.
“Butterfly? I do not recall any butterfly,” the prince pondered.
“Ah, but you forget,” the rose replied, “that in due time, caterpillars become butterflies.”
“Ah, the caterpillars,” the prince remarked. He remembers that he protected the rose from the caterpillars during the time he was still with her. In his heart, he regrets now more that he had left her, because if he had been here, he would have been able to protect her from the caterpillars which could destroy her, as he had always done.
“You remember,” the rose continued, “that on your departure I had decided to let the glass globe be. I did not want it anymore. So I endured the presence of two or three caterpillars, for if not for them, who would call upon me? You were far away. I wanted the acquaintance of butterflies, for they too are beautiful.”
“How long have you known this butterfly? Can this butterfly tend to your needs, at least the way I have? Can it protect you the way I have? Does it even know what to protect you from? Can it listen to you the way I have? Can it be with you the way I have? Does this butterfly intend to tend to your needs your whole life? Can…” the prince had so many questions.
“I do not know,” the rose replied. “But I do know this. He has not left me yet.”
The rose continued, “Certainly, you did not expect me to wait for you to come back? I was not even certain if you would. Certainly you did not expect me to wait idly by, in tears, being alone.”
“It seems, I am the one who has been naïve,” the prince said. “I thought you would always be here for me. I thought you would always be my rose. But it seems, that is not the case.”
“You are going to cry?” the rose observed.
The prince was unable to respond.
“It has done you no good,” said the rose.
“It has,” said the prince. “My fox has his wheat fields. My pilot has his stars which laugh in the night. Now, I, too, have stars which will be all very coquettish.”
“Try to be happy,” the rose said. “You have decided to go away. Don’t linger like this. Now go.”
The rose that once was his, now belongs to another. It seems, the rose that once had need of him, no longer does, but instead, he is the one who is in need of her. He realizes that she was his only for a time, and now realizes that he should have simply enjoyed the time with her. “I ought to have simply enjoyed breathing her fragrance while she was still mine…” he said to himself.
Once again, the prince leaves his little planet dejected. For sure, he will not be out seeking another rose. He has already met five thousand of them, and he knows that they are nothing like his rose. It was the time wasted for his rose that made her so important.
He thinks of his rose, for he is responsible, forever for his rose. For you are responsible, forever, for what you tame. But one runs the risk of weeping a little, if one lets himself be tamed.
But what if the butterfly does not protect her from the large animals? From his sheep? At some moment or other, one is absent-minded, and that is enough! What if the butterfly does not pull up the baobabs, especially while they are still small? Does the butterfly even know the horrors these baobabs can cause? Does the butterfly even know what these baobabs looked like? When left untended, these baobabs can, not only cause great trouble to the rose, but choke the life out of her. But does the butterfly even know of its importance?
For now, he hopes, that maybe, the rose will be back in his life. Perhaps a chance encounter in one of the planets he may visit. But he realizes, roses do not move.
For now, he will continue on his journey. Where he will go, he does not know. He once had a plan, but now it is shattered, and he has no plan left. But it seems he knows where he will go first, a place he has been, such a secret place... the land of tears…
-A. L. E.-
I wonder what happened to the Little Prince after that fateful night he left the pilot to go back home. What if…
The little prince, his golden curls swaying with each small step, his heart eager to be with his rose again, was finally back in his home planet. He was afraid when he was coming here, but now he takes every step with pleasure, and was eager to go back to the familiar tasks he once took for granted. He believed he would never want to return. He was wrong.
“Good morning,” the prince greeted the rose, his eagerness evident in his demeanor.
She was as beautiful as ever.
“You are back,” said the rose.
“Yes. It was wrong for me to leave you all alone. I ought never to have run away from you,” admitted the prince.
“But you did so, because you were unhappy,” replied the rose. “Remember that day when you were still with me, that day of the forty-four sunsets?” she added.
“I’m sorry. I had come to doubt you,” the prince confessed. “I had taken seriously words which were without importance, and it made me very unhappy. Words are indeed the source of misunderstandings.”
After a slight pause, he continued. “I ought not to have listened to you. I should have simply looked at you and breathed your fragrance. You perfumed all my planet. But I did not know how to take pleasure in all your grace. Your naive ways, which disturbed me so much, should only have filled my heart with tenderness and pity.”
He continued. “The fact is that I did not know how to understand anything! I ought to have judged by deeds and not by words. You cast your fragrance and your radiance over me… I ought to have guessed all the affections that lay behind all your poor little stratagems. You were so inconsistent! But I was too young to know how to love you…”
“I, too, had been silly,” the flower confessed. “I tormented you with matters that were of no importance, and realize that it may have been difficult for you to deal with. I ask for your forgiveness.”
“Of course I loved you,” she said in a quiet sweetness. “It was my fault that you did not know it all the while. But that is of no importance. But you – you were just as foolish as I.”
“I am certain you have discovered that there are thousands of others like me,” she said insecurely.
“On the planet Earth, I encountered five thousand in a single garden,” the prince replied. “At first I thought that you were indeed merely like them, and an ordinary passerby would think more so, but that would not be true. You are nothing like them. They may also be beautiful, but they are empty. For it is you that I have watered, you that I have put under the glass globe, you that I have sheltered behind the screen, you that I have listened to, when you grumbled, boasted, or even at times when you said nothing. Because you are my rose.”
The prince assured her, “There is nothing common about you. You are unique in all the world. I see you not only with my eyes, for what is essential is invisible to the eye. I see you with my heart, and only with the heart can one see rightly. You have tamed me.”
“So why have you come back?” asked the rose.
“You are ephemeral,” replied the prince. “And I have come back to tend to your needs, as I had done before I had left.”
“That will no longer be necessary,” the rose replied.
“Oh!” the prince remarked. He could not ascertain if what she said was due to her pride or naivety. After all, she believes that her four thorns could defend herself from tigers.
“Why is that?” the prince queried.
“My butterfly now tends to my needs,” the rose replied.
“Butterfly? I do not recall any butterfly,” the prince pondered.
“Ah, but you forget,” the rose replied, “that in due time, caterpillars become butterflies.”
“Ah, the caterpillars,” the prince remarked. He remembers that he protected the rose from the caterpillars during the time he was still with her. In his heart, he regrets now more that he had left her, because if he had been here, he would have been able to protect her from the caterpillars which could destroy her, as he had always done.
“You remember,” the rose continued, “that on your departure I had decided to let the glass globe be. I did not want it anymore. So I endured the presence of two or three caterpillars, for if not for them, who would call upon me? You were far away. I wanted the acquaintance of butterflies, for they too are beautiful.”
“How long have you known this butterfly? Can this butterfly tend to your needs, at least the way I have? Can it protect you the way I have? Does it even know what to protect you from? Can it listen to you the way I have? Can it be with you the way I have? Does this butterfly intend to tend to your needs your whole life? Can…” the prince had so many questions.
“I do not know,” the rose replied. “But I do know this. He has not left me yet.”
The rose continued, “Certainly, you did not expect me to wait for you to come back? I was not even certain if you would. Certainly you did not expect me to wait idly by, in tears, being alone.”
“It seems, I am the one who has been naïve,” the prince said. “I thought you would always be here for me. I thought you would always be my rose. But it seems, that is not the case.”
“You are going to cry?” the rose observed.
The prince was unable to respond.
“It has done you no good,” said the rose.
“It has,” said the prince. “My fox has his wheat fields. My pilot has his stars which laugh in the night. Now, I, too, have stars which will be all very coquettish.”
“Try to be happy,” the rose said. “You have decided to go away. Don’t linger like this. Now go.”
The rose that once was his, now belongs to another. It seems, the rose that once had need of him, no longer does, but instead, he is the one who is in need of her. He realizes that she was his only for a time, and now realizes that he should have simply enjoyed the time with her. “I ought to have simply enjoyed breathing her fragrance while she was still mine…” he said to himself.
Once again, the prince leaves his little planet dejected. For sure, he will not be out seeking another rose. He has already met five thousand of them, and he knows that they are nothing like his rose. It was the time wasted for his rose that made her so important.
He thinks of his rose, for he is responsible, forever for his rose. For you are responsible, forever, for what you tame. But one runs the risk of weeping a little, if one lets himself be tamed.
But what if the butterfly does not protect her from the large animals? From his sheep? At some moment or other, one is absent-minded, and that is enough! What if the butterfly does not pull up the baobabs, especially while they are still small? Does the butterfly even know the horrors these baobabs can cause? Does the butterfly even know what these baobabs looked like? When left untended, these baobabs can, not only cause great trouble to the rose, but choke the life out of her. But does the butterfly even know of its importance?
For now, he hopes, that maybe, the rose will be back in his life. Perhaps a chance encounter in one of the planets he may visit. But he realizes, roses do not move.
For now, he will continue on his journey. Where he will go, he does not know. He once had a plan, but now it is shattered, and he has no plan left. But it seems he knows where he will go first, a place he has been, such a secret place... the land of tears…
-A. L. E.-
