chapter  11
28 Pages


One warm but misty day, a four-year-old boy sat on a large rock next to his father, quietly watching the surf of the ocean pound the shore. Suddenly he sucked in his breath and exclaimed, “Oh, look at the beauty!” Half an hour later the child sat at the little table in his bedroom, swirling gray and blue crayons around on a piece of paper, all the while saying, “Pssh, pssh,” in an apparent imitation of the sea. Not long after that, the paper lay awkwardly bent on the fl oor between a few toys that were now of more interest.