‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œWhat a damned job!’’  I imagined well Anton’™s muffled voice in clear exasperation emerging from the ceiling box-room while he, on the step-ladder, rummaged’  head and torso deep inside. The stuff stown away had lain undisturbed for many years.’  He had no lust for the job to say the least.’  But they needed the space and he had finally got around to clearing out Pnina’™s, his mother- in law’™s stuff, left after vacating her home some ten years back.’ 
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  Pnina had moved on to a compact home organised for the retired elderly. Her new, small home was comfortable enough for her much reduced needs with the additional opportunity of the company of others in a similar stage in life. She had left to the young couple the spacious home she and her husband had come to in their later years.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œIt’™s only natural, that I should do so,’ she had thought at the time. Although, Anton, her son -in-law behaved toward her gruffly, he and Yudith were making out fine and her grandchildren were’  wonderful – just’  wonderful!’ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ 
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  I happen to be one of those that collect junk although very selective as to my choices. Coming across’ ‘  something that feel may have some potential thrown away, I may well retrieve it and either fix it, or eventually find a use’  for the material of which it is made.’  Many are the things I keep in repair that way.’ ‘ 
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  This time it was a briefcase that caught my eye.’  It lay next to a heap at the curbside. Its leather was obviously of’  good quality.’  My critical eye took in it’™s details as it lay near a pile of personal paraphernalia, now ready to be picked up by the council’™s collectors of rubbish.’  I slowed in my walk and then, with a practiced sweep of my arm, the treasure was in my hand while’  I continued on my way as if that case had been mine since the beginning of time. Its leather would give a quality finish to a piece of plywood, a handle, a book or many a thing to be made or repaired.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  Reaching my home I threw it carelessly over the low wall of my work-come-junk room to pursue first other things more pressing.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  The next day, I had occasion to examine it carefully. Yes, I had been right, the brown leather was good. The case looked quite empty. But going through the pockets methodically, I came across a concealed pocket in which I found an envelope and small bundle of papers. I became immediately curious. Maybe I would learn something of the owner.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  There was a letter with a simple letter head of a council school. The letter was addressed to a Pnina Strachman. It read:’ 
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œAs principal of this school and on behalf of the parents of many children in your care, I am privileged to thank and congratulate you for the endeavours you have put in to your ninth and tenth grade cultural club and the tremendously successful end of term play put on by the boys and girls of the club. The Importance of being Ernest was a magnificent example of how much can be achieved when heart and soul are put into an enterprise; its ovation so well deserved.’
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  The letter went on to say that she was an example to teachers and teaching everywhere. No less was the success that had been achieved by the story writers and poetry groups and how ‘˜free time’™ can become so rewarding when guided by such expert hands as hers and with such understanding.’ 
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  The letter was so full of glowing praise, I felt I was prying into Pnina’™s life and felt almost a little embarrassed.’  But I was also elated to share some of the joy she must have experienced receiving such a letter. In the same pocket there was another envelope which I set aside while I looked deeper into the main partition. The bottom was covered with a thick layer of chalk dust. ‘œOf course. It would be,’ was my first thought.’  I found also some coloured chalks which I collected carefully. They would serve well my own grand children on the little blackboard I had made for them.’  Pnina would have liked that, I was sure.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  From the second envelope I extracted many colour photographs.’  Children in fancy dress.’  Smiling faces.’  Happy faces were looking at me, some from the seaside some from beneath trees.’  But I began wondering too, for some photos of children were cut out to the shape of the figure. All detail except for the person or people in the picture had been removed.’  I had never come across such treatment to photographs and found it most curious. Of course I could have no answer.’  I wondered whether Pnina loved children so much, she didn’™t want extraneous details to interfere with the face?’  Nevertheless Pnina must be or, perhaps, may have been truly’  a very special person who loved her work and children.’  I wondered if she may be still alive.’  Where would she be and how she was faring.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  As to her age, the letter gave me a clue. It was dated almost exactly ten years ago.’  By the dust on the case, it must have lain that number of years stowed away somewhere?’  She had probably been close to retirement then …
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  There were some uncut photographs one of which was the bust of a woman – perhaps of herself in her early forties.’  But it was her face that held me. Something told me that this must be Pnina.’  It had to be.’  Her look was gentle.’  There was a half smile on her lips that lit up her eyes.’  She was wearing a plain white dress and looked the essence of mature womanhood.’  I gazed long until I found that I was looking at her picture as if I had actually come to know and even admire her. The photo had been taken by no novice but by someone who has an eye for a’  good frame and good judgement.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  I suddenly had an urge.’  Perhaps Pnina was still alive!’  Perhaps she missed these, obviously, very special photographs and letter?
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  Then, on that thought – another: ‘œI have an aunt,’  Miriam, who, though in her eighties is amzingly clear in her mind.’  ‘œI wonder… I just wonder ‘¦?’. I decided to pay her a visit.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  She’™s lived in one of those places where the lucky find a quiet atmosphere to live out their remaining years.’  ‘œIt wouldn’™t harm to give it a try… and it is a long time since my last visit.’
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  A clear afternoon two days later found me making my way up the walkway of the lovely gardens to the home where she stayed.’  I even made her out sitting in the soft sun on a bench talking avidly to someone at her side. She spotted me coming and her face broke into a smile.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œWell if it isn’™t my favourite!’  Lyonel, it’™s so long since you paid’  me a visit!’
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  She greeted me enthusiastically and her eyes sparkled like those of a nine- year old. I was always astonished how she kept herself.’  ‘œI am delighted to see you looking so well, Miriam.’  It looks as if you have a special corner set aside just for you in God’™s way of things.’’ 
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  I then turned to her companion and expressed the hope that my unexpected presence did not interfere in what had seemed a lively debate.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œOh, Lyonel I want you meet a most charming person.’
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  Meanwhile, I was looking closely at her companion to see if by just by some wild chance … but no, that was asking too much.’  There was nothing in the lines of her friend’™s face that could be connected with the photograph.’  ‘œNo,’ I thought to myself, ‘œthat would have been too easy. Such things don’™t happen that way.’’ 
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  But Miriam’™s voice continued coming through to me. Was I hearing right?’  ‘œPnina, I would love you to meet my very best nephew, Lyonel.’’  And then to me, ‘œLyonel, you will just love Pnina. Pnina is the Cultural Director of the campus and keeps us all very busy.’
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  But I kept saying to myself, ‘œIt can’™t be! Who then is the woman in the picture?’’  I was a little bewildered but catching myself in mid thought, held out my hand to her and said, ‘œI’™m so pleased to meet you.’  I have a question to ask of you Pnina.’  Please do not be surprised. I shall explain in a moment.’  I wish to show you a photograph …’’  Even as I spoke I was withdrawing an envelope from my pocket. ‘œAs I said,’ I continued, ‘œI shall, explain in a moment but please tell me, do you recognise the person in this picture?’
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  She took it from my hand enquiringly, no doubt wondering how I, a complete stranger to her, would ask such a question.’  But a glance at the picture was sufficient. Her look’  turned to one of almost a childish delight.’  And then I realised that I had made a mistake. That, yes, there was an unmistakable similarity there. So many years had passed.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œThis picture is really precious to me’ Pnina exclaimed in delight.’  It was taken by a most talented pupil in my very first photography group.’  I kept it in my brief case with those of my grand children and best pupils.’  How on earth does it come to be in your possession? I never did know what happened to it’, and she looked at me with eyes that I’  now recognised well.’ 
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  She then continued, ‘œMy son-in-law stored away my brief case with some other things I wouldn’™t need. He assured me that he had gone thoroughly through the case and there was nothing in it.’  I was sure then that I must have placed it and other photos very carefully somewhere else but couldn’™t think where.’  I looked everywhere for them… and…’ here her voice trailed off and she hesitated before continuing in a low tone as if to herself, ‘œa letter.’
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œPerhaps they, too, may turn up,’ I said seriously, and began to extract from my inner jacket pocket a letter and a small packet of pictures, all the while looking at my aunt at whom I sent the knowing wink of one who has a secret to tell.