Karim was twelve, and he was crossing the desert with his grandfather Idris and four camels. On the first day Idris said, "The wind draws on the sand. Keep the wind on your left cheek, and you will walk to the water." Karim was tired, and he only half listened.
On the second day the sky in the north turned brown. "A sandstorm," said Idris. The wind roared, and the sand hid the sun. Idris had been ill with fever for two days, and now he slid from his camel. "Karim," he whispered, "you must lead us. You cannot see the stars. Read the sand."
Karim tied the four camels in a line and tied his grandfather onto the first one with a scarf. Then he walked. All night he kept the wind on his left cheek and watched the ripples in the sand at his feet. He counted his steps, and he did not stop.
Before dawn the wind dropped. In the first light Karim saw palm trees: the oasis! Idris opened his eyes. "Who taught you to walk in a storm?" he asked. "You did, Grandfather," said Karim. "You said I never listened. I listened."
