Taming and the Little Prince

Amidst the week and half of rest and recovery I've had at home after a small surgery I had the great gift of finishing up perhaps one of the most well known children's classics.. The Little Prince , adapted by every culture and language it has arrived to as its own. In my particular case I didn't find this little treasure until I was in college and in fact had not heard of it before, despite now being in complete agreement as to why it rose to such fame. For only roughly 70 pages, it not only packs to the reader (many children I am sure) a great story line of a small  strange little boy traveling through different planets but also a great deal more subtle messages that are written in a very clear and clever manner. I found it quite quite the delightful story, and I still debate if  its end is extraordinarily hopeful or quite the opposite.

Perhaps one of the most well known portions in this work is the encounter of the prince with the flowers after  speaking with the fox, as he narrates to the roses about his beloved flower and why precisely it is beloved. I couldn't help but ponder and pray through this small passage:

The little prince went away, to look again at the roses.

"You are not at all like my rose," he said. "As yet you are nothing. No one has tamed you, and you have tamed no one. You are like my fox when I first knew him. He was only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But I have made him my friend, and now he is unique in all the world."

And the roses were very much embarassed.

"You are beautiful, but you are empty," he went on. "One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you-- the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars (except the two or three that we saved to become butterflies); because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or ever sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose..

I am certain one could extrapolate very different meanings from this portion. Each soul is indeed so unique and beautiful because God has "tamed" him/her in such a particular manner as well as other friendships.

Going with the last theme of remembrance of two very different places and standing in the middle of them I was certainly reminded of that. A few days after the last post I heard the very very gracious news my dad had received American residency and a few weeks after that immigration requested information about myself and my sibling. I stand in the interlude of anticipation and reality. Of remembrance of "taming" two very wonderful places and the being torn between the joy of returning to my beloved St. Louis and abandoning this city, who, as the fox experienced with the prince, had realized it built a much stronger bond..

So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near--

"Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."

"It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you..."

"Yes, that is so," said the fox.

"But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince.

"Yes, that is so," said the fox.

"Then it has done you no good at all!"

"It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields." 

It is very true that my time so far in Guadalajara has been relatively short, not yet a year and a half, and it's also true that in this interlude of anticipation and reality I still have some time with it. I've learned to never trust immigration too much, but regardless, as the prince knew, departure is near.. a few months at best and perhaps prematurely (and unlike the prince who seemed more joyful to return to his flower) I've begun to mourn a bit this interlude, despite its mystery. 

In roughly a week school resumes, Molecular Biology and Genetics (and 5 other classes!) promise to keep busy as well as maybe a job teaching 3 children this English language shenanigans, and I fear that the day shall come, in the middle of all of this where I too shall say:

"Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."

And the fear or sadness is two-fold. The knowledge of the beautiful things I've tamed here but also the worry and sadness of the flower (hinting back at the story) that I've left alone for roughly a year and half. That's a year and half where I have not continued to "tame" that little planet of mine. I worry, like the prince, perhaps the wind has already harmed my flower...or the future harm of a sheep that I am bringing from this new place

"You must keep your promise," said the little prince, softly, as he sat down beside me once more.

"What promise?"

"You know-- a muzzle for my sheep... I am responsible for this flower..."

Before I digress too much I know that despite and with all of this taming, my only peace and joy comes from the joyous faith that I place all these "tamings" with Him. Knowing His graze embraces future, present and past.. and that (I pray) with wisdom and with the same severity in this care and concern as the little prince I can journey to each and every planet (again, alluding to the book) this pilgrimage calls me to!