Page 7 - The Little Prince Antoine

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A
nd so I lived alone, with no one I could really talk to, until
six years ago when my plane broke down in Sahara
Desert. As I did not have a mechanic with me, or any
passengers, I was going to have to make a complicated
engine repair on my own. My life depended on it, since I had
barely enough drinking water to last for only 8 days.
The first night, I lay down on the ground and fell
asleep, miles and miles from any living soul. I was more cut
off than a castaway adrift in the middle of the ocean. So you
can imagine my astonishment when I was awakened at
daybreak by a funny little voice saying: “Please, will you draw

me a little lamb?”
“What”
“Draw me a little lamb…”
I leaped to my feet as if I had been struck by lightning.
I rubbed my eyes and stared. And I saw the most
extraordinary little fellow studying me intently. This is the
best picture I have managed to draw of him from memory.
But of course my drawing is not nearly as delightful as
the original. That is not my fault; the grown-ups had put a
stop to my artistic career when I was six and I had never
drawn anything other than my two boa constrictors.

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