The Return of the Young Prince

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The Return of the Young Prince Page 7

by A. G. Roemmers


  ‘A train…?’ the boy started to say.

  ‘It’s not a passive feeling,’ I continued, ignoring the interruption. ‘Quite the opposite – it requires attention and effort every day.’

  ‘Why do you always start by saying what things aren’t?’ he complained. ‘It would take half the time if you didn’t.’ And before I had time to come back with some observation about the dual nature of our planet, he asked, ‘What is a train?’

  ‘A set of wagons pulled by a locomotive engine along two rails that we call tracks,’ I answered, trying to be brief and not say what a train isn’t.

  ‘If it’s difficult to get off a road,’ observed the Young Prince, ‘it must be almost impossible to get off those tracks.’

  My silence confirmed his suspicion.

  ‘It sounds like there’s not much room to be free on this planet,’ he concluded at last.

  It seemed ridiculous to get bogged down in a discussion of free will just then, so I picked up my original thread. ‘To live happily you have to defend freedom, but also life, ethics, self-esteem, loyalty and peace. It’s the duty of all human beings who want to live better, as well as being the most honest attitude to take in the service of others.’

  ‘What d’you mean, “to live better”?’ he asked.

  ‘To live better is to draw fully on everything that life offers, and be open to anything that might enrich us emotionally, materially or spiritually.’

  I had to make some effort to stop there, and not explain that the opposite of living better is ‘staying alive’, which means surviving on as little as possible. He’d wounded my pride a little, and I didn’t feel like explaining more to him than was strictly necessary, even if that meant not expressing myself with clarity.

  ‘It sounds like you have to have a lot of things to be happy,’ he said.

  ‘No, you don’t,’ I said, contradicting him quickly. ‘Happiness comes from being, not from having; from acknowledging and appreciating everything that you already have, and not rushing to lay your hands on what you don’t have. Often the thing we lack can be a source of happiness, as that’s what allows others to complement us. If we were perfect, if we had everything, how would we relate to each other? Someone once said that it isn’t our strength that shelters us at night, but our tenderness, as it makes others want to protect us. The simplest, most direct path to happiness is making the people around us happy,’ I concluded.

  We were both silent for a moment. When I saw that my young friend was listening to me closely, I went on. ‘As for love, I think the truest thing anyone has said about it is that you learn to love by loving. We all have the ability to offer love, even if just with a smile, as that enriches the person giving it as much as the one receiving.’

  ‘I think this planet would be a lovely place if everyone on it greeted each other with a smile when they met,’ observed the Young Prince.

  ‘True love,’ I continued, ‘focuses on what’s best for the other person, and doesn’t think about itself. For that kind of love, which is capable of accepting anything, of forgiving anything, nothing is impossible. If we treat others as what they are, they will carry on being the same; but if we treat them as what they might become, they will realize their full potential. That’s the real altruistic love, the one that perfects everything it meets and leaves nothing unchanged.’

  ‘Even with lots of love, you can’t solve everything,’ replied my friend, invaded again perhaps by a yearning for his flower, left on an asteroid drifting in space, with two volcanoes ready to erupt.

  ‘But don’t forget that you can always do something,’ I said. ‘Loving is not giving up on what’s possible. And if love is the only thing you have left, you’ll find that it’s more than enough.’

  ‘It must be very sad not to be loved,’ he mused.

  ‘It’s sadder to be incapable of love,’ I pointed out. Then I added, ‘Some see evil as a powerful force working against love. I think the worst thing you can suffer is to stop loving. Lovelessness is hell.’

  ‘And what happens if you make a mistake, and fail in love?’

  ‘We learn from mistakes, so I don’t see them as failures. The only real mistake is not going back and trying again and again, in different and creative ways, because if you limit yourself to repeating things you’ve done before, you’ll only be given what you’ve already got. But you can’t fail in love. The only mistake is to stop loving.’

  ‘And how do I know who deserves my support and my love?’ asked the Young Prince.

  ‘Often we withhold our support so we can give it only to those who deserve it. That’s a big mistake, because it’s not for us to judge the merits of others, which apart from anything else is extremely complicated. We must only love. Just as with forgiveness, the person who loves most is the one most enriched by it. In the end, if God loves all human beings equally, who are we to exclude some and choose others? Pity anyone who takes advantage of your kindness. Ultimately,’ I said, ‘if you dedicate your life to finding the best in people, you’ll end up finding the best in yourself.’

  ‘And the fear of death,’ he said unexpectedly, ‘doesn’t that stop you being happy?’

  ‘Many people worry about the end of their lives. They would do better to worry about giving their lives a proper beginning, and making sure they bear fruit. I don’t think we lose our souls when it happens, but eventually we all meet our fate. If we’re judged when we get there, I’m convinced that the question will be: “How much have you loved?” They won’t ask us “How much have you earned?”, but “How much have you given to others?” Being impressive means nothing if it hasn’t been in the service of others.’

  After a short pause, and barely containing my feelings, I added, ‘Do you know something? Love is more powerful even than death. I had a brother – he loved his wings, which were made up of many colours. They say that he died, but he lives on in our hearts. Ever since then I’ve thought that the ones who are really dead are those who have never loved, and those who have given up trying.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  We had come now to the outskirts of the city, where my friends would be waiting for me. Nobody would be waiting for the Young Prince, though – not even on his own planet. The thought made me sad, so I invited him to stay on with me.

  ‘Life has given me so much,’ I said, ‘and I’d like to help you for as long as you need it.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he replied, ‘but you’ve already done a lot…’

  Just at that moment, on the way into the centre of town, we stopped at a light. A tramp came up to the car and held out the palm of his hand. As the boy lowered his window, we both noticed a strong smell of alcohol.

  ‘Have you got any money?’ asked my young friend.

  ‘I think I’m out of change,’ I answered.

  ‘Give me what you’ve got, then,’ he insisted.

  ‘Are you sure?’ I asked doubtfully as I fumbled for my wallet, which had got stuck in the back pocket of my trousers. ‘He’ll spend it all on drink.’

  The light turned to green and the car behind us honked at us to move forwards, while the tramp stayed leaning into the window.

  ‘Move over to one side and let him pass,’ my friend told me, and I realized once again that it was impossible to contradict him. ‘Earlier you told me we should give without asking who it is that’s receiving the gift. Well, here’s someone asking for our help.’

  ‘But a guy like this, I don’t think money is going to help him solve his problems,’ I protested, even though I normally try and help without thinking about it.

  ‘Perhaps some wine will help him bear them for a while, though,’ he replied. ‘Unless you want to listen to his story to find out what would really help him… You know what?’ he added suddenly, brightened by a new thought. ‘I think that’s a great idea. I’m going to spend the night here. Perhaps I can do something for him, and if not, someone listening to him a bit and keeping him company is sure to do him good.’

&nb
sp; ‘But you can’t just stay here like that in the street, without knowing who this man is…’

  The Young Prince cut my objections short. ‘Don’t forget that I was also by the side of the road three days ago, and you helped me then. What’s the difference? The way we look? You said yourself that we shouldn’t let ourselves be guided by appearances. You’ve done your good deed; now you should let me do mine. Go and meet your friends. I can be of more use here.’ And then something else occurred to him, and he added, ‘Come tomorrow at dawn. I’d like to say goodbye.’

  With those words, he got out of the car and went over to sit down beside the tramp. When he saw that I wasn’t sure whether or not to start the car again, uneasy at the idea of abandoning him, he gestured for me to go on.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about the Young Prince and the circumstances in which we’d parted. The chances of him carrying on a rational conversation with the tramp were slim, because when someone has decided on a path of self-destruction it’s very difficult getting them off it. The man might even react violently to any attempt at giving him help. But my friend was good at making the impossible seem easy – if, that is, anything were impossible for someone with such a pure heart, such a bright smile. And yet, sitting on the ground with his cap backwards, he looked just like any other child with nowhere to go.

  During the celebrations, as I shared in my friends’ joy, the image of the Young Prince was gradually erased from my mind, like a thorn that no longer pricks. When I went to bed, though, I couldn’t help comparing my soft, warm bed to a cold, hard pavement. For a moment I thought of going to look for him, and I even got as far as leaving the room, but something told me it would be wrong to disobey his command. I opened the window. It was a pleasant spring night, although the breeze was cool. The watery light of the moon was pale next to the morning star. I looked up, once again in awe of Patagonia’s star-spattered sky. Even those who know it well would still be amazed by it yet, if they only stopped to look…

  Chapter Twenty

  Because I’d left the window open so I’d feel closer to my young friend, the first light of dawn woke me up. I got dressed quickly and, without having breakfast, drove straight to the place where we had parted ways.

  The worry I felt in the pit of my stomach evaporated when I saw him chatting with the tramp like they were lifelong friends.

  ‘Hi!’ he said, coming over to greet me, fresh as if he’d slept on a bed of roses.

  ‘Hi!’ I said back. Curious by now, I asked, ‘So, what’s his story?’

  ‘He’s a really good person – a university graduate, quite comfortably off. After a routine health check they diagnosed him with a terminal illness; he was given just a few months to live. He left the clinic feeling completely desperate, and, to save his family from suffering too much, decided to end his life. Luckily he didn’t have the courage, or rather the cowardice, to do it, and so he started walking, got on the first train he saw and came here, where he decided to give up everything.’

  A smile crept on to the Young Prince’s face as he saw my look of astonishment – the solid proof that once more I’d misjudged a person and a situation.

  But he went on with the story, without needing to show that he’d caught me out yet again.

  ‘I spent all night persuading him to go back home and let his family welcome him with their love and their care, which could be a way for them to give back something of what he had given them. Even though love is not eternal, it can be given infinitely.’

  ‘That’s right,’ I said, moved by the story. ‘I’ve heard many times that those final moments in life can be more intense than all the years that have gone before. I don’t think time is necessarily linear. How wonderful it would be if we could live each day as if it were our last! Think how many things we’d do; how many others we wouldn’t bother with! Also, I think death comes to us of its own accord when we have learned all that we came into this world to learn.’

  Finally, I asked my friend, ‘And what are you going to do now?’

  ‘Go back home with him, and stay with his family for as long as they need me. Anyway, we should never rule out a miracle,’ he said, smiling. Then he added, with a wink, ‘Diagnoses are wrong sometimes, you know?’

  Then he gave me a hug. I felt like an electric current was coursing through me, as though every one of my nerves, arteries and cells was being charged up with new energy. For a moment, it was as though I was suspended in space.

  When he let go of me, I was still feeling moved, and winked back at him as I said, ‘That’s right, we should never rule out a miracle.’

  The tramp too seemed filled with new life, and his dirty, sad face seemed to have taken on a kind-hearted, almost prophetic look.

  As they walked away, it seemed to me that they were carrying a new light with them through the streets of the still-sleeping city.

  Suddenly I started to see it all a different way. I felt that it was the Young Prince, in fact, who had shown me the way with questions he already knew the answers to. I was the one who needed to resist being weighed down by my problems. I was the one who should take care not to become a ghost, or a serious person. I was the one who should feel more love for an animal than for a machine; who shouldn’t cling to the past or the future but live in the present; who should forget ‘having’ and dedicate myself to ‘being’. The one who should stop getting caught up in the means, and look more towards the end. The one who should grow in love and be happy.

  My friend had limited himself in order to let me discover the best of him so that I could find the best in myself.

  It was a miracle that had transformed me utterly in the space of three days, one of those marvels that no one sees coming, because miracles of love are as simple as they are great.

  Tears of happiness were clouding my vision. And it was me who had to say, ‘Thank you,’ then, even though they were already too far away to hear me. Right at that moment, though, he turned around and smiled. Even at a distance, the flash of that white light was almost blinding. I knew that the whole universe was smiling with him.

  Epilogue

  This, dear reader, is the story of my journey, and I was in a hurry to write it so that you wouldn’t be so sad.

  I think you’ll agree with me that we needn’t worry so much now that the Young Prince has returned, this time to stay among us, and that life is a little more beautiful.

  I haven’t seen him again since that day. But now every time I smile and have reason to be kind to someone, or to do something for them, I feel as though a wave is forming. And that if the person I’ve helped reaches out and smiles at someone else, we become a tide that reaches every place. That’s why, when I think about or miss the Young Prince, I start one of those waves, certain that it will reach him. And in the same way, since that last morning I saw him, if I’m sad and somebody smiles at me, I know that somewhere, very close by or very far away, the Young Prince has smiled.

  Sometimes, as I pass by a park and see a group of children playing, I catch myself trying to spot him among them. But then I remember my own words to him: ‘You shouldn’t close yourself off to others because you’re looking for your friend.’ And I realize that I shouldn’t keep looking for him, as I can see him in anyone if I remember to look with my heart.

  I had spent long nights of my life going from city to city and border to border in search of a friend, until that dawn when I found him smiling in my heart…

  It was a lovely spring night, although the breeze was cool. The watery light of the moon scarcely outshone the morning star…It was then I understood that I should lift my eyes to the sky!

  Suddenly, something wonderful happened: the stars seemed to smile at me from on high, and when a breeze blew, they rang out like five hundred million little bells.

  This book is dedicated to:

  Jesus Christ, the light that guides me and the way.

  My grandmother María Josefina Miller de Colman, my brother Andreas Christian, my friends Juan
Ángel Saroba and Gerdardo Leone, in loving memory.

  Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, for giving me the strength I needed to hold on to my innocence and the purity of my heart.

  My parents, who have made love triumph over the years.

  My brothers, and my beloved family and friends, because my love is multiplied as I share it with them.

  My teachers, and the difficulties I encountered on the way, because by moulding and tempering my character, they allowed me to discover my spirit.

  My godchildren, because they help me look to the future with joy and enthusiasm.

  The Young Prince, for having another shot at happiness and not shying away from it.

  My deepest gratitude goes to all those whose words and vision are somehow reflected in this work. After all the books, conversations, classes and publications, I couldn’t say precisely how each one of them has contributed to my way of thinking and being. I think the best way of expressing my gratitude is to share the lessons they have taught me and that have been useful to me when I have tried to apply them. Together with my experiences, they form the foundation on which I continue to build up, day by day, my happiness and spiritual growth.

  A Oneworld book

  First published in the English language by Oneworld Publications, 2016

  This ebook published by Oneworld Publications, 2016

  Text copyright © Alejandro G. Roemmers, 2013, 2016

  c/o Schavelzon Graham Agencia Literaria, S.L.

  www.schavelzongraham.com

  Copyright this edition © Oneworld Publications, 2016

  Illustration copyright © Pietari Posti, 2016

  Translation copyright © Oliver Brock, 2013

  The moral right of Alejandro G. Roemmers to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs, and Patents Act 1988

  All rights reserved

  Copyright under Berne Convention

 

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