Little Girl Lost

Forgot to tell friends what happened to me on the way home on Friday. I worked quite late, catching up with some e-mails and bits and pieces to do with the Greenacre Bicycle rally. I got to Arnos Grove in North London at about 7.30pm ish. Luckily my bike was still there (it had been stolen a few months ago outside Arnos Grove and amazingly it was handed in to a police station and I got it back). Whenever possible I like to ride via the quieter roads, I find many drivers on the main roads quite aggressive towards cyclists. This astounds me as the drivers are surrounded by metal and relatively safety whereas, cyclists are naked, one little bump and our skin breaks open and blood pours out.
I took my normal route towards Station Road N11 and was just passing by the church when I saw a tiny little girl pushing a pink scooter. I watched to see if a parent was following but no it was just the little girl on her own. A chap in a car asked if she was okay and I rode towards her. She had tiny blue eyes and white blonde hair, quite a confident little thing.
'Where's your mummy?'
'shfkjahfkkjbvjkjhkjjojtjglkjwlkgjwkl', she replied.
'Mama,' I said, 'where's your mama?'
'asjkfhkdjkjflkejkjeklfkjeklejkeklrfjk'.
I think she was Polish. So I pointed in one direction, 'Mama?' And then I pointed in the other direction, 'Mama?'
'mfkflkjlelkdnfkklfsdklklklmamakashjkwh.'
'We go see Mama, this way Mama or that way Mama?'
Eventually she seemed to understand, dropped her scooter and went running back the way she had come. I followed, round the back of some flats, past a broken fence and piles of rubbish. She turned down a side entrance and there in the garden were three other children and two women.
'Hello,' I said, 'This little girl was out in the road.'
'Oh my God,' said one of the women.
'Is she your daughter?' I asked a younger girl with brown hair.
She pointed to the older woman, 'No, she is hers.'
I told them she had left her scooter on the pavement. They both followed me, 'Oh my god,' they said over and over again. 'She came out all this way, she must wanted to go home.' The older woman pointed in the direction the little girl had been heading towards, 'We live down there.'
This made me wonder if perhaps the little girl had understood me and I confused her because they lived in one direction and her mother was in the garden in the other direction. I asked if she could speak English.
'No, just Polish'.
I got on my bike and said goodbye.
'Thank you, thank you.' they both said.
I continued my ride home, wondering what would have happened if I had not worked late and so been in that place at that time. I thanked the angels for looking after the little girl lost.