The child sat by the doorway holding a miniature blackboard, scribbling intensely with a piece of chalk. Her brow was knitted in concentration, but yet she seemed happy at her task. Curious, the adult went up to her to inquire about her activity.

“You look like you’re having fun. What are you doing?” asked the adult.

“Drawing,” said the child.

“What are you drawing? Can I see it?” replied the adult.

The child moved the blackboard so that the adult could see her work. On it was a series of vertical zigzags made by moving the chalk in a repetitive up and down movement.

The little girl smiled expectantly at the grown-up, hoping, like all artists do, for a positive review. And the grown-up, not wanting to disappoint the child, but not knowing what to make of the scribbles, said somewhat tentatively, “That’s really pretty, but what is it?”

The child, slightly miffed by now, pointed and said, “That’s a tiger.”

The adult, not really seeing the tiger anywhere, commented as such to the child.

To which, the child shrugged, shook her head and went back to her work, exclaiming to herself as she did:

“The tiger is there. It’s hiding in the grass!”