Prince Cedric

One of the Readings at a wedding we attended on Saturday June 5th was from The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery. The first reader spoke in English and the second, the German godmother of the groom, read in her native language. Somehow, the German version sounded more lyrical to me, perhaps it was the style of the reader and the tone of her voice. What does it mean when German begins to make more sense to you than English, despite the fact that you cannot read or speak German?

It must be another of those whacky life-transition things that keep popping up when I least expect them to do so.

As it happened, I had never read The Little Prince, although I had a boxed copy sitting on the shelf awaiting the right moment. I'm sure you have one waiting on your bookshelf as well, right next to the boxed dvd-set of Sex And The City. Last evening, I sat on the porch enjoying the cool, dry air and read the book for the first time.

This is a nice story about a Prince who visits Earth from his own planet and comes across a pilot who has crashed his plane in the desert. I am not here to report that reading the short book in itself was a huge life-altering event. I have had enough huge life-altering events recently, thanks. But, I did come across a particularly curious statement, spoken to The Prince by a fox, related to the passage read at the wedding"

"....Here is my secret. It's quite simple: One sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eyes."


That would sound true in any language, certainly including the French of de Saint-Exupery's original version (although he wrote it, naturellement, in New York).

While I was reading the book on the porch, a young man walked up the driveway from the lane on which we live.  He was a young African-American man wearing a tie without a jacket with his shirt hanging out, carrying some papers in his hand.

Let me say right here that the odds of encountering such a man on my porch in a lane epynomously described as "Hidden" are roughly equivalent to those of a crashed pilot encountering a small prince from another planet in the desert. I'm not saying that it should be that way, just that, honestly, it has been that way here for quite some time.

Naturally, I readied myself for a sales pitch and began developing various ways to say "No Thanks."

Cedric quietly introduced himself, explaining that he was trying to improve his life by representing a company and offering magazine subscriptions at very affordable prices. He passed me the material that he was holding for inspection, but by this time I had fully developed a response that would send him on his way, and, truly, the last thing we needed was more magazines, I honestly thought.

By the time Cedric had made it back down the driveway and out of site, three things occurred rapidly: 1. I recalled the words of the fox and the spirit of what I had just read, 2. I realized that Cedric was simply transitioning and seeking a break just like me, and 3. my wife steals New York magazine from reception areas. So, I quickly called Cedric back to the porch and asked him to sit down, while I went inside to get my checkbook (okay, so even I can't handover cash in the middle of a possibly transformative experience).

For the record, I ordered 138 issues for $76. Since I  have more than a passing knowledge of the floundering magazine industry (which explains why I was sitting  on the damn porch in the first place), I realized that New York might be defunct well before Number 138 would arrive and that, if by some miracle it should arrive, it would do so at an as yet unknown future address. But, as the fox might have said, "So what?"

My eyes had told me to make short work of this fellow intruding upon my quiet evening on the porch, while my heart told me that I had spent part of my day and many, many other recent days trying to get someone to see my true value and to take a chance on me.

May I offer some advice? Read this little book, if you must, but, more importantly, see someone today with more than your eyes. Cedric and many others would really appreciate it.

Ed Note: This is dedicated to Mr. Cedric Medearis: Bon Courage, and please try to get beyond the magazine business as soon as possible.