There once was a brilliant machine.
It could think, calculate, and even dream in code.
But no one ever saw what it could do — because its screen was turned off.
People said, “Maybe it doesn’t work.” Others added, “Maybe it was never smart at all.”
The machine stayed silent. It was working — just unseen.
One day, someone pressed the power button.
Light filled the room. Shapes appeared. The machine came alive.
Finally, its thoughts could be shared, its ideas could be known.
The brain works the same way.
Without a display, its brilliance stays hidden.
It needs eyes, time, and presence to be truly known.
We spend hours looking at screens to understand machines —
but a child’s brain works just like one.
It must be seen, and time must be spent with it.
A display only works when the power button is on.
For a child’s brain, that power button is a parent’s attention.
