Continued from the previous post.....
Dear Boo and Bubble,
Granddaddy Schaefer
had pretty good perceptions about people as well. To his way of
thinking, those who were too greedy, too vain, too preoccupied and too
serious were going to fail sooner or later. I couldn’t help but think
that some of that insight must have come directly from the Little
Prince’s visits to Asteroids 325, 326, 327, 328, 329 and 330.
The first one was inhabited by a king. Wearing purple and ermine, he was sitting on a simple yet majestic throne.
“Ah! Here’s a subject!” the king exclaimed when he caught sight of the little prince.
And the little prince wondered, ‘How can he know who I am if he’s never
seen me before?’ He didn’t realize that for kings, the world is
extremely simplified: All men are subjects.
……later in the same chapter
“Exactly.
One must command from each what each can perform,” the king went on.
“Authority is based first of all upon reason. If you command your
subjects to jump in the ocean, there will be a revolution. I am
entitled to command obedience because my orders are reasonable.”
On Asteroid 326 -
The
second planet was inhabited by a very vain man. “Ah! A visit from an
admirer!” he exclaimed when he caught sight of the little prince, still
at some distance. To vain men, other people are admirers.
“Hello,” said the little prince. “That’s a funny hat you’re wearing.”
“It’s for answering acclamations,” the very vain man replied. “Unfortunately, no one ever comes this way.”
“Is that so?” said the little prince, who did not understand what the vain man was talking about.
“Clap your hands,” directed the man.
The little prince clapped his hands, and the very vain man tipped his hat in modest acknowledgment
And he continued clapping. The very vain man continued tipping his hat in acknowledgment. .
……later in the same chapter
But the vain man did not hear him. Vain men never hear anything but praise.
On Asteroid 327 –
The next planet was inhabited by a drunkard.
“What are you doing there?” he asked the drunkard.
“Drinking,” replied the drunkard, with a gloomy expression.
“Why are you drinking?” the little prince asked.
“To forget,” replied the drunkard.
“To forget what?” inquired the little prince, who was already feeling sorry for him.
“To forget that I’m ashamed,” confessed the drunkard, hanging his head.
“What are you ashamed of?” inquired the little prince, who wanted to help.
“Of drinking!” concluded the drunkard, withdrawing into silence for good.
Granddaddy
had an amazing aura about him. He was a magnet to people, young and
old. Like all of us, he had his shortcomings, but until the day he
died, he truly sought to listen to and learn from others. This was
particularly so with his children and grandchildren. It was as if a
piece of his heart was planted in each of us. He invested his time in
us.
And he went back to the fox.
“Good-bye,” he said.
“Good-bye,” said the fox. “Here is my secret. It’s quite simple: One
sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to
the eyes.”
“Anything essential is invisible to the eyes,” the little prince repeated, in order to remember.
“It’s the time you spent on your rose that makes your rose so important.”
“It’s the time I spent on my rose….,” the little prince repeated, in order to remember.
“People have forgotten this truth,” the fox said. “But you mustn’t
forget it. You become responsible forever for what you’ve tamed.
You’re responsible for your rose…”
“I’m responsible for my rose….,” the little prince repeated, in order to remember.
When
I think back on Granddaddy, my memory of him is so vivid it’s almost like he’s
still alive. I can hear him chuckling. I can remember the way he used
to push his fingers together and press them against his mouth when he
was thinking. I can see his penetrating blue eyes looking over the
half-frames of his glasses and I can hear the notes of “Turnip Greens”
rolling off of the piano in our living room. Very much like the Little
Prince, he dropped out of the sky and landed on the desert of my life to
show me what matters. His presence is still with me.
“At
night, you’ll look up at the stars. It’s too small, where I live, for
me to show you where my star is. It’s better that way. My star will be
…. one of the stars for you. So you’ll like looking at all of them.
They’ll all be your friends. And besides, I have a present for you.”
He laughed again.
“Ah, little fellow, little fellow, I love hearing that laugh!”
“That’ll be my present. Just that…it’ll be the same as the water.”
“What do you mean?”
“People have stars, but they aren’t the same. For travelers, the stars
are guides. For other people, they’re nothing but tiny lights. And
for still others, for scholars, they’re problems. For my businessman,
they are gold. But all those stars are silent stars. You, though,
you’ll have stars like nobody else.”
“What do you mean?”
“When you look up at the sky at night, since I’ll be living on one of
them, since I’ll be laughing on one of them, for you it’ll be as if all
the stars are laughing. You’ll have stars that laugh.”
And he laughed again.
“And when you’re consoled (everyone eventually is consoled), you’ll be
glad you’ve known me. You’ll always be my friend. You’ll feel like
laughing with me. And you’ll open your window sometimes just for the
fun of it…And your friends will be amazed to see you laughing while
you’re looking up at the sky.”
Yes, Granddaddy Schaefer, I know you’re up there, in the sky on a star. You and the little prince laughing forever together.
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