‘ ‘ ‘  Lillian Coleman, a young, caring home-maker was In her kitchen baking and preparing dishes her family would remember their lives long. The aroma of baking bread in her oven spread far. As practical a mother as Lillian was, she was also responsive to spiritual needs. ‘œJust as the body requires care,’ she would say, ‘œthe spirit can know hunger and thirst, too and longs for expression and understanding.’
‘ ‘ ‘  The house was now quiet from those loud and happy noises that seemed to follow her eldest son, Richard, aged seven wherever he went. He and his two sisters had been taken to school by her husband, Raymond who worked in Nairobi.
‘ ‘ ‘  Lillian, suddenly startled by a knocking at the glass-panelled kitchen door that faced the back yard, looked up. Her blood froze as her gaze fell upon the pale white face of a young boy. In his eyes was a soul-chilling look of weakness, fear and hunger. She had never encountered such a look. The boy, his face and hands pressed against the glass panel moved lower and lower as his lags began to give way.
‘ ‘ ‘  Shocked, Lillian moved swiftly to the door. She caught the boy in her arms as he collapsed. His clothes were soaked from the last night’™s rain and full of mud. He stood bravely with her help, and moved into the room. Wordlessly, she sat him at the kitchen table. Sympathising with his feeble state, she asked no questions but set before him warm cocoa, freshly baked bread buttered liberally and spread with home made marmalade. Lillian prattled all the while: ‘˜Everything will be all right, you poor boy. I’™ll contact the police, your parents’  are bound to be there and they will come very soon. They are surely worried sick.’ Her voice, soothing, went on and on.
‘ ‘ ‘  The boy’™s age was about that of her son, Richard. He was in a state of total exhaustion and did not utter a word. His expression of relief, however, for Lillian, was all that was necessary.
‘ ‘ ‘  Lillian left him to run a bath. As soon as the boy had finished, she helped him undress and enter the warm water. ‘œThat’™s better, isn’™t it?’ Getting no reply, she still did not press for an answer. Examining his wet clothes carefully, Lillian came across a card, wet, even muddied but still intact. It read: ‘˜Simon and Phyllis Lipshitz, Davidson Rd., Nairobi.’™ A hand-written name she assumed to be the boy’™s, was at the top, Ori.
‘ ‘ ‘  lillian placed the card carefully in her pocket. She rinsed the mud off his clothes and hung them on a line in the back yard.
‘ ‘ ‘  After preparing a bed upon the sofa she returned, to find Ori sitting on the rim of the bath wrapped in the towel she had left. She dressed him in a clean pair of Richard’™s pyjamas then lead him to the sofa in the lounge she had prepared as a bed: ‘œSleep a little, Ori, you’™ll feel very different when you wake.’
‘ ‘ ‘  She doubted he heard for she was sure he fell asleep even as his head touched the pillow. She darkened the room by drawing the blinds and left silently.
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‘ ‘ ‘  The Colemans’™ had always wished to live away from the city and neighbours and had built their home set well away from the road in a forest in an area called Langata. It was some ten miles from Nairobi and six from the nearest and small village of Langata on the foothills of the Ngong range. They had few neighbours, their nearest being two miles back towards town.
‘ ‘ ‘  Lillian walked out into their back yard. The night before, rain had come down heavily. The boy’™s footsteps were clearly imprinted in the mud. She followed them to the perimeter fence. There, a hollow in the mud showed where he had dug and pressed his body down In order to crawl under the lowest tine of the barbed- wire. A narrow branch broken from a tree just inside the fence had obviously been a tool to help dig the shallow trench. Beyond the fence began the forest which’  stretched for mites in all directions. The heavy undergrowth made it so very easy for one to lose one’™s way particularly in cloudy weather.
‘ ‘ ‘  Lillian returned quickly. She dialled the police branch at Langato where her call was answered by a duty officer.
‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œIs anything known about a lost child. Ori Llpshitz, from Davidson Road, Nairobi, . . .’ She got only as far as this when a woman’™s agitated voice broke into the call:
‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œIs Ori all right?’
‘ ‘ ‘  ‘˜Yes,…’
‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œThank God! We’™ve been in torment all night. We have been searching since yesterday noon. He is usually so good. It seems some animal attracted him. We often go to the stream to fish. I can’™t imagine why he did not use his whistle. From the middle of the night I’™m at the station, while my husband, with five African policemen is searching the forest. The forest is so thick. I’™m out of my mind with worry. We have no means of communicating with the searchers and have not heard from them since they left. Who are you? Where are you talking from?’ The tirade from the woman seemed to come without a breath taken.
‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œPlease calm yourself, Mrs. Lipshitz, Ori is all right. My name is Coleman. He is fed and bathed and at this moment he is sleeping. We are only six mites from you on the Nairobi road. The name Coleman, is clearly marked. You can’™t miss it. The call continued a while with Mrs. Lipshitz expressing her gratitude and thankfulness to God.
‘ ‘ ‘  As Lillian walked back to the kitchen wild thoughts swam in her mind: what a terrible experience the child must have had. What a frightening afternoon and night alone in the forest.’  At night, she often heard the grunts and calls of jackal and hyena as they hunted. Sometimes the chilling grunt of a leopard. Fortunately it had rained steadily – most scents are hard to follow in the wet. She was grateful, too, that Mrs. Lipshitz had not asked to speak to her son and had allowed him to continue his rest.
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‘ ‘ ‘  It just happened that Lilian’™s husband, Raymond and children arrived home from work and school together with the Lipshitz’™ family. The meeting was boisterous and happy. Lillian was not a little surprised that Ori did not wake in spite of the racket. Ori’™s father went over to where the boy was still sleeping peacefully on the sofa and touched him lightly on his shoulder. Ori woke, sleepily re-gathering himself in his strange whereabouts.
‘ ‘ ‘  As he stood the room became suddenly silent. His first look alighted upon his mother’™s tear- stained face. At first, Ori’™s face contorted then brighten. Finally there broke from him a strange, heart chilling cry. To Lillian, the cry was, in some inexplicable way, heart- rending and terrible. It made her blood run cold and goose- pimples rose up on her arms and ‘˜spine. Suddenly, he was In his mother’™s arms and the room once again filled with shouting and laughter. As the sounds subsided to some degree, Ori’™s father, Simon came over to Lillian. He embraced her warmly.
‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œMy name is Simon – that’™s my wife, Phyllis, and those are Ori’™s twin brothers Tim and Tom,’ he added as he waved towards his two young sons standing near the entrance in lively conversation with Lillian’™s three.
‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œLillian, I have this strange feeling that this is not the first time we have met although I’™m actually aware that it must be. Please relate . . . -‘  but he got no further when Lillian interrupted: ‘œOur back door is glass-panelled and when I saw Ori’™s strained and frightened face through it, I got a terrible shock. He was so weak and pale. I rushed and caught him as he fell. I asked no questions but decided that I’™d phone the police. First, however, I gave him to eat, drink, a ‘˜hot bath and settled him in a warm bed. I’™m sure that he was already asleep as his head touched the pillow. I am so glad that this episode has a happy end. Your card in Ori’™s pocket saved a lot of questions.’
‘ ‘ ‘  ‘˜Yes’, answered Simon, but, of course, in Ori’™s case it is essential. When he became separated from us and lost his way in the forest, there was absolutely no way we could contact him. I can’™t understand what happened to his whistle.’
‘ ‘ ‘  Hearing again the word, Lillian wondered. ‘˜What’™s this about a whistle? she asked, then stopped.
‘ ‘ ‘  Noticing Lilian’™s questioning look, Simon added: ‘œDon’™t tell me that you don’™t know?’
‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œDon’™t know what?’
‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œLillian, Ori is a deaf-mute!’
‘ ‘ ‘  Lilian’™s face drained as she listened and she felt her knees going weak. She controlled herself with difficulty. ‘œHe was so weak and hungry. I didn’™t ask any questions. I felt that from fatigue, perhaps shyness, he couldn’™t bring himself to speak, so I didn’™t press him with questions. No, I did not know,’ she finally managed breathlessly.
‘ ‘ ‘  Simon continued: ‘œThe night In the forest alone must have been a nightmare for him. The dangers are so real if you can’™t hear what’™s going on around you. We were worried sick. The longer we searched, the worse we felt.’
‘ ‘ ‘  Simon’™s voice broke at this point, and for a while he said nothing. He gathered himself then continued: ‘˜Do you know, Lillian, that that heart-rending cry we just heard from Ori, was the very first sound he has ever uttered? As shocked as I am, I’™m also full of joy and hope. This just may be a beginning of a new chapter in Ori’™s life. Perhaps he will now be prepared to learn to talk. Nothing we did could persuade him to make a sound. I haven’™t words enough to thank you, Lillian. I shall remember always,’ Simon added emotionally.
‘ ‘ ‘  In amazement Lillian had been listening to Simon’™s words. She thought back to Oil’™s silence since he had set foot into her kitchen. She moved oven to Phyllis who had been communicating with Ori.
‘ ‘ ‘  ‘˜Phyllis, I’™m LillIan.’
‘ ‘ ‘  They hugged briefly. ‘˜Has Ori told you how he became lost and what happened to his whistle?’
‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œYes. He chased a hare just when it was beginning to be dark – went quite a way into the forest before he realised just how far he’™d gone. In the chase the string of his whistled caught on a twig and was torn from his neck. As much as he searched in the undergrowth he could not find it. Turning this way and that he also lost his sense of direction finally taking the wrong one he did.’
‘ ‘ ‘  Lillian, cold, listened to Phyllis as if Ori was still in his predicament. Phillis continued: ‘œFortunately, Ori kept his head. Although the sky was cloud- covered. he walked in the direction of a lighter patch of cloud that marked the position of the sun and could be seen from time to time through the trees. He kept the direction until quite dark when he climbed into a tree to pass the night. Of course he was cold and frightened. It rained constantly until just before dawn. Phyllis glanced at Ori, fear showing in her eyes at what he must ‘˜have gone through. She went on: ‘œAt first light he continued, guiding himself with the brightest part of what was still a semi-cloudy sky. It was the aroma of baking bread that led him to your back yard. We are so lucky and happy that this episode ended as it did ‘“ and so indebted to you, Lillian. How wonderful you are!’
‘ ‘ ‘  Simon in the meantime had been in conversation with Ori when suddenly the Lipshitz family broke into unrestrained laughter.
‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œWhat did he say?’ asked Lillian, puzzled.
‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œI asked Ori to tell something about his adventure,’™ Simon said and his answer was so lovely.
‘ ‘ ‘  ‘˜I’™ve heard much about Eden,’™ he said, ‘œhere I had taste of it.’