Chapter 27

Andnow,ofcourse,it’sbeensixyearsalready..."I’venevertoldthisstorybefore. Thefriendswhosawmeagainwereverygladtoseemealive. Iwassad,butItoldthem, "It’sfatigue." 

NowI’msomewhatconsoled. Thatis...notentirely. ButIknowhedidgetbacktohisplanetbecauseatdaybreakIdidn’tfindhisbody. Itwasn’tsuchaheavybody... AndatnightIlovelisteningtothestars. It’slikefive-hundredmillionlittlebells... 

Butsomethingextraordinaryhashappened. WhenIdrewthatmuzzleforthelittleprince,Iforgottoputintheleatherstrap. Hecouldneverhavefasteneditonhissheep. 

AndthenIwonder, "What’shappenedthereonhisplanet? Maybethesheephaseatentheflower..." 

SometimesItellmyself, "Ofcoursenot! Thelittleprinceputshisflowerunderglass,andhekeepsclosewatchoverhissheep..."ThenI’mhappy. Andallthestarslaughsweetly. 

SometimesItellmyself, "Anyonemightbedistractedonceinawhile,andthat’sallittakes! Onenightheforgottoputherunderglass,orelsethesheepgotoutwithoutmakinganynoise,duringthenight..."Thenthebellsareallchangedintotears! 

It’sallagreatmystery. Foryou,wholovethelittleprince,too. Asforme,nothingintheuniversecanbethesameifsomewhere,nooneknowswhere,asheepweneversawhasorhasnoteatenarose... 

Lookupatthesky. Askyourself, "Hasthesheepeatentheflowerornot?" 

Andyou’llseehoweverythingchanges... 

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