Friday, June 12, 2009

Il faut cultiver notre jardin



Even when it is tiny and sits on a window sill in an apartment.

I hear echoes of The Little Prince every time I look at my charges.


Then one morning, exactly at sunrise, she suddenly showed herself.

And, after working with all this painstaking precision, she yawned and said:

"Ah! I am scarcely awake. I beg that you will excuse me. My petals are still all disarranged..."

But the little prince could not restrain his admiration:

"Oh! How beautiful you are!"

"Am I not?" the flower responded, sweetly. "And I was born at the same moment as the sun..."

The little prince could guess easily enough that she was not any too modest-- but how moving-- and exciting-- she was!

"I think it is time for breakfast," she added an instant later. "If you would have the kindness to think of my needs--"

And the little prince, completely abashed, went to look for a sprinkling-can of fresh water. So, he tended the flower.

* * * * *

"I should never have listened to her," he confided to me one day, "One should never listen to the flowers. One should simply look at them and breathe their fragrance."

"If some one loves a flower, of which just one single blossom grows in all the millions and millions of stars, it is enough to make him happy just to look at the stars. He can say to himself, 'Somewhere, my flower is there...' But if the sheep eats the flower, in one moment all his stars will be darkened... And you think that is not important!"

He could not say anything more. His words were choked by sobbing.


Ah, the love and heartbreak of the gardener.

4 comments:

dorki said...

What a lovely array of blooms. It must be satisfying to grow something pretty like that. The only thing I can manage is the green stuff on the back of the shower curtain.

blue girl said...

Lovely, M.A.

M.A.Peel said...

dorki, surely you exaggerate!

Thanks very much BG.

Jeremy said...

Stifles a muffled sob.