When the little prince was gone, the rose cried.

And when she had stopped crying, she said, "How lonely it is." But nobody answered. And the days began to pass slowly.

One morning, there was a small baobab in front of her.

"You are very beautiful," he said.

But the rose was reminded of the little prince saying the same thing and that made her feel cross. "You are not," she said.

The baobab was not insulted. "I am growing fast though," he said. "You are not. That means I will soon be much, much bigger than you."

The rose did not say anything.

The baobab continued. "Soon my roots will spread over your land and you will be crushed."

As the days passed, the baobab grew bigger and bigger and the rose grew afraid. She had never been afraid before. She wondered, "When I am crushed, will I still be?"

And she felt very sorry for herself.

She told the rain and the caterpillars how she felt but they did not seem to be very interested. And she was angry at the little prince for leaving her in such an indifferent world.

The baobab grew larger and larger. It loomed over her and blocked the light.

One day, the rose said, "Won't you please move your branches? I wish to see the sky."

The baobab could not hear her. He was too high above. So he did not respond.

Finally, one night the rose felt one of the baobab's roots touch her. She tried to push him away with her thorns but what use were they? And then the rose thought of the little prince but she was not angry anymore just terribly sad. She closed her eyes and thought of him as she fell asleep.

In the morning, she was awakened by a strange sound. And when she looked, she could see the little prince hard at work, sawing away at the baobab.

She did not say anything. What could she say? She just watched him as he worked for several long hours. Finally, the baobab swayed this way and that and toppled to the ground.

The rose looked at the little prince, then, looked away.

And the little prince spoke, beginning (as he often did) with a question. "Why don't you ever cry?" he asked.

The rose said nothing.

The little prince continued. "I have done a lot of traveling and all the good creatures I've met in my travels, the fox and the pilot, they cried when they were sad. To cry means you have sorrow and that means you have some good in you. I know that you have good in you so why don't you cry?"

The rose looked up at him and said, "I do cry. But I am very proud, so I hide it." She sniffed.

And to her surprise, the little prince smiled. "I should have seen that you were crying, although you tried to hide it," he said. "Now that I know about seeing." And then he said, "Would you like to meet my sheep?"

The rose paused. "I am not sure," she said. "I am not only proud. I think I am also jealous."

"Oh, but you mustn't be," said the little prince. "It is a very quiet sheep. I think you will be able to tame it. I will show you how to tame things."

"Oh, will you?" said the rose. "I am glad. I have been alone for so long."

And the little prince laughed. "So have I," he said.