Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Hello! My name is Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, and I was a writer and a pilot. My story begins in a beautiful city called Lyon, in France, where I was born on June 29th, 1900. Growing up, I was fascinated by anything that could fly. I would watch birds soaring in the sky and dream of joining them. In those days, airplanes were brand new, rickety things made of wood and fabric, but to me, they were magical. I would spend hours building my own flying machines out of old bicycle parts and bedsheets. They never actually flew, of course, but that didn't stop me from dreaming. When I was just 12 years old, in 1912, a famous pilot took me for my very first flight! The feeling of lifting off the ground and seeing the world shrink below was a feeling I never forgot. From that moment on, I knew my life belonged in the clouds.

When I grew up, I made my dream come true. In 1921, I joined the French military to train as a pilot. After my service, in 1926, I began one of the most exciting jobs in the world: I became an airmail pilot for a company called Aéropostale. My job was to fly a small plane, all by myself, to deliver letters and packages to faraway places. I flew over the vast, sandy waves of the Sahara Desert in Africa and the towering, snowy peaks of the Andes Mountains in South America. It was dangerous work. There were no fancy computers to guide me, just my eyes, a map, and the stars. I faced giant storms, engine trouble, and the risk of getting lost. In fact, on December 30th, 1935, my plane crashed right in the middle of the Sahara Desert. My mechanic and I were stranded for days with very little water, seeing nothing but sand for miles. That experience was scary, but it also taught me a lot about what is truly important in life.

Flying wasn't my only passion; I also loved to write. My adventures in the sky gave me so many stories to tell. I wrote books about the beauty of the Earth from above, the courage of my fellow pilots, and the friendships we formed. One of my books, called Wind, Sand and Stars, which came out in 1939, shared many of my real-life flying tales. But the story I am most remembered for is a very different one. While living in America during World War II, I wrote and illustrated a little book that was published on April 6th, 1943. It was called Le Petit Prince, or The Little Prince. It's a story about a pilot who crashes in the desert—sound familiar?—and meets a little boy from another planet. The Little Prince taught the pilot, and I hope my readers, that the most important things in life can't be seen with your eyes, but only with your heart.

When World War II was happening, I couldn't just stand by. I rejoined the French Air Force to fly reconnaissance missions, gathering information to help my country. On July 31st, 1944, I took off on a mission over the Mediterranean Sea and never returned. I was 44 years old. Though my flying days ended, my stories lived on. I am remembered as a man who dared to explore both the skies above and the world within the human heart. My book, The Little Prince, has been read by millions of children and grown-ups all over the world in hundreds of languages. I hope my adventures and my words continue to inspire people to look up at the stars, to cherish their friends, and to always remember what is truly essential.