Emulation

Once upon a time, a three-year old girl wanted to "chalk" in her driveway. Her daddy, busy pondering the expanse of the universe and the microcosm of his life, said sure.

With effervescent excitement, she began to scrawl. With the honesty of Lincoln, that's the best that could be said of her etchings.

Her name was discernible. And there might be a stairway in there. But one line followed another with little purpose, with little end.

The daddy smiled at the Picasso and moved away from the driveway to the clean slate of the sidewalk. Upon selecting his canvas, he began to draw. His princess came up from behind and took the adjacent slab of concrete to watch what Daddy would do.

As soon as the giggly imp recognized Daddy's drawing, she got to work herself. One shape and then concerted study. Another shape. A line. More examination. More lines, but this time, the picture emerged. And a big smile from two faces.

No lessons were given. No corrections were made. A daddy just drew for his little girl, and the apple of his eye tried, and succeeded, to draw just like him.