There are some things that inexplicably make their way into your life. Is there a divine/metaphysical explanation to it? I wouldn’t know.
It has been a number of weeks that I have been seeing The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry everywhere. The movie trailer looked good and nudged my curiosity. My browser steadily brought me posts on it. The random blog I was reading brought it up. The book peeped out from the returned section heap in the library.
I lost it when I saw the book on sale at the supermarket window. I strode in, stroked the blue glossy cover, admired the drawings predominantly in yellow and made it mine.
If I should describe the book, I would need to borrow and slightly modify Shrek’s words. This book is an onion. Layers and layers of introspection at the way we live as grown-ups. A post-wonderland Alice hopping planets, asking simple but profound questions before reaching a gloomy ending.
“It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important.”
I want to believe the little prince made it back to his rose after visiting other planets and seeing other roses. Below doodle is the proof that he did. As did his sheep.
I AM GRATEFUL FOR …
The Little Prince