Little Mathew aged six was playing in the lounge, his mother as usual was busy in the kitchen preparing the evening meal, when she suddenly thought her son was being unusually quiet. Wiping her hands, she popped her head round the lounge door and asked Mathew why he was so quiet and what he was up to. He replied, "I’m concentrating on drawing my picture of God." "But how can you do that?" said his mother, "No one knows what God looks like." Without looking up from his drawing the little lad replied, "They will in a minute, when I’ve finished."