This classic story slipped by my radar until a friend listed it as one of her favorite books of all time. Intrigued—especially since this friend has ridiculously good taste—I checked it out from the library and was not disappointed. It’s an extremely popular novella—translated in over 190 languages and selling more than 80 million copies worldwide—and having read it, I now understand why.

As an unschooler, I felt that The Little Prince really captures the heart of lifelong, self-directed learning and the importance of keeping a childlike view, or a beginner’s mind, throughout a lifetime. It begins with the author remembering how his career as an artist came to an abrupt halt as a child when, after drawing a picture, no adults understood what he’d drawn—and they all told him that drawing was a waste of time. This sets the tone of the rest of the narrator’s life, and he does grow up and stop drawing, doing what the rest of the world says he should do.

When he meets the little prince, however, he realizes that just because the rest of the world thinks he should be something other than himself, it doesn’t mean that he should conform. The little prince understands his drawing and teaches him about how silly it is to worry about things like numbers or even something as basic as the body when there are other things—beauty, wonder, spirit—that are so much more important. By the end of the novella, even death is rendered unimportant, since it, too, is only temporary—a necessity for moving forward. The wonder and open-mindedness of a child is represented as much more important than the material and practical demands of adulthood.

Similar to the problems I’ve had with other spiritual novels, the one thing that bothered me about the story was its male-centeredness. It’s not surprising, since the book was published in 1943, but it’s also still something that needs to be addressed during reading—particularly with young girls. It should be stressed that the prince’s adventures and his viewpoint are just as important for girls to have (indeed, some of his rose’s vain qualities and comments seem to mimic a stereotypical female, which is also bothersome)—and the close-mindedness of the male adults in the novel are just as prevalent in adult women as well. Overall, the lessons are still so beautiful and poignant that the story remains a powerful teaching tool for people—both adults and children—of all genders.