And one day he said to me: You ought to make a beautiful drawing, so that the children where you live can see exactly how all this is.
That would be very useful to them if they were to travel some day.
Sometimes," he added, "there is no harm in putting off a piece of work until another day.
But when it is a matter of baobabs, that always means a catastrophe.
I knew a planet that was inhabited by a lazy man. He neglected three little bushes...
So, as the little prince described it to me, I have made a drawing of that planet.
I do not much like to take the tone of a moralist.
But the danger of the baobabs is so little understood, and such considerable risks would be run by anyone who might get lost on an asteroid,
that for once I am breaking through my reserve.
"Children," I say plainly, "watch out for the baobabs!"
My friends, like myself, have been skirting this danger for a long time, with-out ever knowing it;
and so it is for them that I have worked so hard over this drawing.
The lesson which I pass on by this means is worth all the trouble it has cost me.
Perhaps you will ask me, "Why is there no other drawing in this book as magnificent and impressive as this drawing of the baobabs?"
The reply is simple.
I have tried. But with the others I have not been successful.
When I made the drawing of the baobabs I was carried beyond myself by the inspiring force of urgent necessity.