2

Chapter 2 Six years ago, my plane crashed in the Sahara, leaving me alone to fix the engine with barely a week’s water. I slept on the sand, more isolated than a shipwrecked sailor. At sunrise, a small voice woke me: “Draw me a sheep!” I was stunned to see a serious little boy, unharmed in the desert. I tried three drawings—sick, horned, old—all rejected. Frustrated, I drew a box, saying the sheep was inside. To my surprise, he was delighted, asking if the tiny sheep needed much grass. That’s how I met the Little Prince .