The Artist in the Desert

There was a fighter plane that had crashed in the Sahara Desert during World War II. The pilot was alright, but all his surroundings were nothing but dusty sand and a hot sun. No food, no water. Nothing but a bottle of water and dry crackers.

Three days later, her water had run out. He was dying of the heat of the sun, of thirst, and of loneliness. That's when I remembered. He had been a pilot before he became one. In his pocket was a pencil and a broken pair of glasses. Then he started to sketch on the desert sand. His family, his city, the pavements, and the glancing water!

I know he's not here with us, but I still want to keep whatever memory he had of his last moments.'' Oddly enough, drawing seemed to quench his thirst a little, and he felt quieter in his mind. He thought, "I'm still alive. I can dream, so I still have hope.''

The eighth day, a French rescue team climbed over and found him. They saw. A bony form, cracked skin, weary eyes, yet the pilot was there drawing in the sand like some kind of wizard artist!

The pilot added, after his rescue, ''I survived because I didn't lose faith. Even my broken-down glass and one piece of a pencil became my stimulation to live in the desert.''

Lesson: Life can drive away many things, but not faith. If you have trust in yourself, nobody can beat you.