The Well

It was now the eighth day since I had my accident in the desert, and I had listened to the story of the merchant who sold pills that removed the need for water — saving fifty-three minutes a week. The little prince said: "If I had fifty-three minutes to spend as I liked, I would walk at my leisure toward a spring of fresh water."

I had nothing left to drink.

"Let us look for a well," said the little prince.

I made a gesture of weariness. It is absurd to look for a well, at random, in the immensity of the desert. But nevertheless we started walking.

When we had walked for several hours in silence, darkness fell and the stars came out. The little prince said:

"The stars are beautiful, because of a flower that cannot be seen."

I replied: "Yes, that is so." And without saying anything more, I looked at the ridges of sand shining in the moonlight.

"What makes the desert beautiful," said the little prince, "is that somewhere it hides a well."

I was suddenly struck by an understanding of that mysterious quality of the sands. When I was a small boy I lived in an old house, and legend told us that a treasure was buried there. It cast an enchantment over the whole house. My home was hiding a secret in the depths of its heart...

"Yes," I said to the little prince. "Whether it is the house, or the stars, or the desert — what gives them their beauty is something that is invisible."

At daybreak, I found the well.

"Do you hear?" said the little prince, working the rope and pulley. "We have woken the well, and it is singing." The pulley moaned like an old weathervane long forgotten by the wind.

I raised the bucket slowly to the edge of the well. The little prince drank, his eyes closed. It was as sweet as a special gift. This water was indeed a different thing from ordinary nourishment. Its sweetness was born of the walk under the stars, the song of the pulley, the effort of my arms.

"The men where you live," said the little prince, "raise five thousand roses in the same garden — and they do not find in it what they are looking for."

"They do not find it," I replied.

"And yet what they are looking for could be found in one single rose, or in a little water."

"Yes, that is true," I said.

And the little prince added: "But the eyes are blind. One must look with the heart."