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...