The long night before Christmas
25 December 11
After we realised that we had lost Aisha in the bush — albeit with an adult companion — Christmas Eve was the longest night of the year for us. The reunion of our family is a wonderful Christmas present — the best that money can’t buy!
It’s a good thing that I felt at peace as I sat at our camp-site and waited for David to return back from his 4WD adventure with three of our daughters and 20yo Luke. Elijah was sleeping peacefully, Calista was playing on the computer and I was downing multiple cups of chai as I watched the sunset and then experimented with photographing the satellites that passed overhead.
Even though it became very dark and all the stars came out, I wasn’t concerned by my family’s late return. I imagined them to be having such a good time somewhere else that they weren’t in a hurry to get back to our camp.

The car that came over the hill wasn’t the Landcruiser that went out. It was Tom’s car — our neighbour had collected David, Delaney and Brioni and brought them to our camp site because the kids were too tired to walk further.
David explained that their party had split up. Aisha and Luke had headed up the mountain in a hurry because they wanted to see the sunset, and David had followed at a slower pace with Brioni and Dell. At some point, David realised that he didn’t know where Aisha and Luke were, but it was getting dark and he needed to return to the car.
Meanwhile, Luke had scrambled up to the crest of the mountain with Aisha on his back so they could watch the sunset. It was very colourful — definitely worth the climb — but once it was over, it got dark very quickly.



In the dusk, David found it was difficult to follow his earlier footsteps, and with Brioni and Delaney under his care, he started to realise that he didn’t know where the car was!
Opting to get the kids back to our camp as quickly as possible, David headed down the mountain with Delaney on his back and Brioni in tow. There wasn’t a danger of getting lost — all roads lead to our camp-site, but David needed to find a road to follow before all the sunlight was gone.
Brioni initially needed a lot of encouragement to keep walking the several kilometres back to our camp. David later explained to me that this took a lot of his energy and that lack later contributed to his concern about Aisha.
Meanwhile, after the sunset, Luke put Aisha on his back and started heading down to the car. After a while, both he and Aisha realised that although they should have long reached the car, it wasn’t where they thought it was, and they were lost. Luke says that at this point, Aisha began to cry, wishing that she had never come on the walk and just wanting to be reunited with her dad! Luke says that she told him, “I just love my dad so much.”
Gently, Luke was able to pull her out of her sadness. He explained how he was feeling about the situation, and he says their spirits rose in unison.
Focusing, Luke and Aisha decided on a plan. All torches and water were still sitting in the car, but Luke was carrying a lighter so making a fire was possible. In the remaining light, Luke again carried Aisha to the top of the hill, believing it to be the most visible spot in the terrain. He intended to light a fire so David would be able to locate them.
At the top, Luke sat Aisha down next to a large, flat granite rock and started to gather sticks. Aisha became upset, not wanting Luke to leave her alone in the dark, so he scrabbled around on the ground to collect some twigs and get the fire going. Luke says his first few attempts to light the fire failed but then he found some stray paper in his utility belt, and the fire stayed lit.
Once the fire was going, Aisha became content to let Luke move further away from her as he collected more firewood. “I then sat down and helped calm Aisha, we talked about how of all the ways we could be lost in the bush, this was quite easy because we had each other, and a fire,” Luke says. “Then Aisha started telling me the lessons she has learnt from this experience.
“We decided we learnt to always carry water! Also always carry a lighter, and when exploring the forest, always take the time to plan how you will know the way back to the car!”
At about 9.30pm, David finally reached Tom’s car and deposited Delaney and Brioni in it before crossing the creek to find Tom. Tom drove the girls around to me at our camp-site before taking David back up the mountain. David says that they drove as far up the 4WD track as they could, but the gradient became too steep for Tom’s Subaru, and they eventually turned back after first beeping the horn and calling out for Luke and Aisha.
On the mountain-top, as they settled in the warmth of the fire, Luke and Aisha slowly became conscious of the beauty of their environment. “The sky was huge and went on in all direction, the stars were so bright and the sky so dark and beautiful,” Luke remembers. “We then decided that other than the lessons we had learnt, to opportunity to spend this moment looking at the stars was worth being lost in the bush!”
Aisha fell asleep before too long, using Luke as a pillow and blanket. When she woke up, she was more brave. “Rather than being scared to be left by the fire as I collected wood, she was happy to sit and wait for me to gather more fuel for our warmth,” Luke recalls.
“Then we started singing songs together. I sung In the jungle and Akuna matata from The Lion King and Under the sea from The Little Mermaid.“ Aisha would fall asleep and then wake periodically. “We started having fun, and Aisha would tell me: ‘The first thing I’m going to do when I get back to Daddy is make sure he knows that we have been alright the whole time!’” Luke says he was amazed at how she got braver and braver as the night wore on.
David and Tom returned to our camp, and we discussed our further options. At this point David was wracked with fears for Aisha’s emotional state. We believed that Luke and Aisha would be sitting in the car waiting for David’s return with the girls, and David thought that Aisha would be worried on their behalf. If Luke had returned to the car, we just needed him to make the decision to drive down the mountain and bring Aisha back to me at our camp-site. I wryly remarked that Luke may be trying to get the courage to return to our camp with just one child and admit to me that he’d lost my husband and two other small children along the way. “Come on, Luke and Aisha,” David would mutter. “Come back to us.”
At this point in the night, I didn’t feel overly concerned for Luke and Aisha. I knew that they would be safe, and the evening was mild so even if they couldn’t make a fire, they wouldn’t get too cold. Somehow I could rest in the knowledge that this event had been designed as a learning experience — especially for Luke and Aisha, but also for David and me as the parents of a missing child.
Our last experience with losing Brioni and Aisha in the bush in Carnarvon Gorge was an emotional train-wreck. Although we found the girls within several hours and they were unharmed, during our separation from them, David and I spent the whole time arguing about how we would discipline them when they came back to us! Upon reflection, we’ve definitely progressed since then, and during most of the ordeal, I found myself at peace about everything. Instead of creating imaginary scenarios in my mind, I kept telling myself that everything was fine. Perfect love casts out fear, and I believe in a perfect Love ruling the universe.
After resting a bit, David decided to start walking back up the mountain to find the car — still believing that Aisha and Luke would be in it. During his absence, I couldn’t sleep much, and simply focused on keeping my thoughts positive. When he returned with the Landcruiser — and no Aisha, we both felt flattened again.
We’re still waiting on the landowner’s return, and so now that we had the car, David decided to drive to Lloyd’s house to see if he was back and could assist in the search. When he returned back to me, he reported that Lloyd still wasn’t back, but David had left a note in case Lloyd turned up in the next couple of hours.
David decided that he would take the Landcruiser up the mountain as far as he could — it’s a hairy 4WD track that is not tackled lightly in daylight, much less on a moonless night! However, David wanted to camp at the truck and take his big boombox stereo to blast music for Luke and Aisha to hear. He believed that a continuous noise would be easier to follow through the bush rather the intermittent sound of a car’s horn. So David started to pack up the truck with the supplies that he would need. One further peculiarity about the Landcruiser — apart from it not having a starter motor nor a handbrake — is that we’ve lost the radiator cap and so need to keep topping it up with water. David took our 25-litre jerry can of water so that he could continue driving as long as he needed to.
It was 2.30 when David left me for the last time. I encouraged him by telling him the time — we both knew that it would be light in a couple of hours and then it would be easy for Luke and Aisha to find their way out of the bush.
Soon after 4 in the morning, Luke and Aisha thought they heard the car’s engine. The bush around them lit up from the Landcruiser’s headlights, and they could hear David honking the car’s horn. Luke recalls: “I told Aisha to wait here as I ran down to get Dave’s attention. Dave hopped out of the car and the first words I heard him say is ‘I love you, Luke! Do you have my baby?’ I gave him two thumbs up, and he said ‘Thank God!’”
When Aisha, Luke and David finally returned to our camp, they were all in good spirits. Aisha was reflecting positively on her experience and told me how brave she had been. Of course, Luke was singing her praises, too, and we think Luke is an extraordinary young man to connect with Aisha in such a special way during the ordeal! We’re thankful that he was with Aisha the whole time, and together they keep each others’ spirits up.
Throughout the night, we kept reminding ourselves that there was no personal fault in the situation, and it was a good thing that was happening, planned by God since before time began. It’s times like this that our faith in Divine goodness is tested. Do we and can we really believe that losing our 6yo daughter in the bush is a good thing, and can we be thankful while we’re still uncertain of the future? Yes, we do and yes we can!

Happy Christmas, indeed!
1 · Paulo · 25 December 2011, 19:20
That’s quite an adventure. I’m sure you were all relieved upon finding each other again! They look like they’re happy to be back.
2 · Ruth · 25 December 2011, 22:02
I am amazed by this story and happy for you all. Much love to you all.
3 · Jade · 25 December 2011, 22:47
Such an evocative post. Your description of Luke and David finally finding each other brought tears to my eyes. What a rollercoaster. Beautiful recounting as ever.
4 · holly c. · 25 December 2011, 23:44
So happy everybody is safe and sound!
5 · Kat · 26 December 2011, 17:00
How very frightening. Did you call search and rescue or the police? How could you trust that she had not gotten separated from Luke? A lot of what I see on this blog is lovely, but I have real concern about a child being lost in the wilderness (twice?) and no back up being called. , A child can slip, fall, drown so quickly…
I would also be concerned letting my child go off with “neighbors” that I have not known for very long. I think I understand the freedom you want to give your children, but as parents we are there to help prevent tragedy that they may not be able to anticipate.
6 · Trish · 26 December 2011, 17:54
Hi
I am Lukes mum. I knew Luke would do everything he could to look after your daughter. I am proud of the way he kept her safe. Please tell Luke that I love him and we missed him on Christmas day. This was my first christmas without him.
7 · Jade · 27 December 2011, 11:11
Lauren, I get a large amount of joy out of your blog – I’m so admiring of the effort you put in and the time you must spend on uploading and editing photos and writing the thoughtful and descriptive text. Sparkling Adventures is one of my top five blogs to visit.
However, I do agree with Kat to an extent. The event recounted in this post didn’t particularly bother me for some reason, but I remember an earlier post, quite some time ago (sorry, no idea when so can’t link to it) about an incident near a cliff or a steep incline. In my memory David and Lauren and the girls were hiking, and one of the girls went very close to the edge of a cliff to look over. I distinctly remember Lauren writing that she and David had their hearts in their mouths but ultimately were able to give way to their daughter’s freedom of decision and ability to know the limits.
This story particularly resonated with me because of an incident in my family when I was about 10. We were all hiking in the Grampians in Victoria, and my younger brother, who would have been about 6, ran full pelt at an unfenced cliff edge with a huge sheer drop on the other side. I just remember seeing my dad bolt from 20 metres back, take a running dive, grab the back of my brother’s t-shirt, and pull him to the ground right as his front foot reached the edge. Seeing them both crying on the ground still affects me (obviously!). It was literally a hundredth of a second and we would have lost my brother; as dad later said, a prescient sensation he had while trailing behind us caused him to execute his explosive “rescue” move.
So Lauren’s story his some nerves for me. But beyond that, I remember thinking at the time that while I wholeheartedly admire Lauren and David’s parenting style and ability to embrace freedom of thought and loosening of control, that particular incident made me feel uncomfortable. After I read it, I thought about how it made me feel – as I often do after Lauren’s post – and if I was “judging” it reflected through my own parenting style. Sometimes, like with Lauren’s girls lighting fires, I am initially uncomfortable but then I come around to it. I believe now that supervised children are of course capable of safely lighting fires; and even if there’s a mishap, that Lauren and David are always there to immediately administer first aid (that said as someone who has never experienced burns or known any burns patients; I’m sure they aren’t quite so “Oh-the-worst-thing-that-can-happen-is-a-burn” casual about it.) This is one instance among many where Lauren has challenged my own thoughts about parenting and improved them as a result, for which I am grateful.
But I really think there are certain instances where children simply cannot anticipate the consequence or outcome of their actions, no matter how much freedom they are given or how much practical experience they have. Also, they aren’t equipped with an adult level of physical control over their bodies in any case; even if somehow their child-like brains can transcend the usual “restrictions” of their age, their bodily reflexes simply cannot be made to be more “mature”. It’s just a simple biological fact.
So the cliff story made me feel very uncomfortable – to me, this is just not something where a chance should be taken in the name of a learning opportunity because there’s simply no return from a misstep or a mistake. And it’s not fair to expect a child to understand that, or, not understanding it, unwittingly take on responsibility for it.
Like I said, Lauren, I get lots of food for thought from your blog and appreciate it very much as a really quality input to the blogosphere and my own sources of information and inspiration when it comes to parenting – thank you. I just felt I had to write this comment in support of Kat, who is writing what a lot of others are but thinking but not voicing.
Happy new year to all!
8 · Luke · 27 December 2011, 11:54
Hello Kat this is Luke.
I had my phone with me so I had the opportunity to call police or search and rescue to ask for help if needed. However I didn't feel like the situation was serious enough at that point to take such action. I was confident that if no one had come for us by morning that I could find our way back to camp in the day light. However I did have in my mind that if no one had come by the morning and we would have to walk back to camp, and for some reason we took the wrong path and got more lost then I could have called search and rescue, if it came to that! which it did not, and with Dave only being aware that Aisha and I were also lost for such a short time it's perfectly understandable that he would make his own efforts to check where we said we where going before getting more people involved in the search.
Your worst case scenario view on the situation tells me that perhaps you would shelter your kids from such powerful life experiences that bear valuable lessons, which I think would leave your kids more vulnerable later in life. After getting to know Dave and Lauren's daughters Aisha and Brioni I was amazed to see such wisdom in such young people, and of the way that rather then playing unconscious of possible dangers I see that they are already aware of looking out for each other and them self without being paralyzed by fear.
I don't think it takes a long time to tell if someone has a responsible caring nature. If I have kids in my care I keep a close eye on them at all times. Aisha never left my sight over the whole ordeal other than when I would leave her by the fire to get more warmth. You say it's your job to anticipate the future to prevent possible tragedies for your children, but have you ever thought that perhaps your using your energy to focus your awareness on negative non-existent realities rather than focusing on what's real which is the here and the now!
9 · Lauren · 27 December 2011, 12:35
Thanks everyone, for your comments.
For Kat’s benefit, I’d like to add that David and I had spoken about contacting SES (the search-and-rescue volunteers) if we didn’t find Luke and Aisha by noon on Christmas Day. I was highly aware that many volunteers would appreciate being with their families for Christmas and didn’t want to call them out unnecessarily. Also, the weather was no threat. If the conditions had been different — perhaps if it had been winter — maybe we would have contacted the SES immediately.
Kat, thanks so much for sharing your story. I have nothing so formative about cliffs in my memory, and thus I am not influenced by my past in the same way you are. I know the blogged instance you’re referring to — when we were trekking the Pagoda Track in October (http://www.sparklingadventures.com/index.php?id=1417). If you go back and look at the picture, you’ll see that David is within a hand’s reach of Calista and is ready to grab her if he needs to. She remained safe but also felt independent in her exploration of the cliff edge.
10 · Kat · 27 December 2011, 13:19
I am so happy to hear both responses, very reassuring! In response to Luke, I don’t feel as though we over shelter our children and that is quite the assumption on your part (respectively speaking, my comment was out of pure concern and I included nothing about our life for you to go off of). We actually live on a small island and our children have an immense amount of freedom when it comes to nature and the water all around us. When I refer to anticipating tragedies I am speaking from the experiences that I have witnessed living in a more remote location. Things can happen very quickly as the previous poster stated.
Good luck and take care to all of you!
11 · Merilyn · 29 December 2011, 08:18
Hi,
I’m a friend of Luke’s mother and I know your daughter was very safe with him.
12 · Renee · 29 December 2011, 12:25
I don’t understand why Luke didn’t just call you if he had a phone…
13 · Rachel · 30 December 2011, 06:08
Hello. I am new to your blog and found this post inspiring and alarming.
At first, I was so afraid for your child despite your calm reflections. The Austrailian bush is dangerous enough, but, in our hometown, the threat of people is much more real. I realized that my personal expereince has biased my feelings. Our family has been betrayed by someone very close. This has shattered my trust in my fellow man. Years later, I still struggle with this and find it hard not to jump to conclusions. Who is this neighbor? How well do they know him?
I was relieved to read the happy conclusion.
Next, I was overwhelmed by a completely opposite thought. Here your daughter was, lost in the bush with a neighbor. She kept her cool better than any six year old I could imagine and came home with valuable lessons learned. My children are whimps! Two weeks ago, my 10 and 7 year old sons were practicing for the Christmas pagent at church four blocks from home. The rehersal broke up 30 minutes earlier than I expected and my boys were wrecks by the time I arrived to pick them up. They had forgotten their home phone number, they couldn’t explain where they lived, and, in thirty minutes, had completely lost hope that I would come to get them.
Congratulations on all of your parenting sucesses! I will be thinking of your brave daughter while I help my boys gain some perspective on our urban “bush”.
14 · Manou · 3 January 2012, 13:21
GOd Almighty,our loving Father:to you,yet again, I give all honour,glory,thanks and praise!
15 · CherylT · 13 May 2013, 22:51
Holy shit. These poor kids :(
16 · Des · 28 December 2014, 06:23
No, really, why didn’t Luke call if he had a phone?