(Click on the little number at the end of the word to read the explanation.)

The Bible doesn’t name Noah’s wife or the wives of the three sons. No-namers, non-entities, not important. They don’t have any authority, so they don’t need names. But God gave them each a butterfly.

Noah comes into the house one day and says, “God’s going to flood the world. I’m supposed to build an ark, which we’re going to fill with animals, and we will survive the flood by living in the ark for maybe a year.”

Mrs. Noah, the woman with no name, sighs and says to herself, “Excuse me? We just built this brand-new house, with all the latest appliances,¹ with a built-in vacuum system, with a big screen TV, with the kitchen just the way you designed it, and now we’re going to live in a boat?! With animals?! I think you’ve been out in the sun too long.”

But to Mr. Noah, she just says, “Yes, dear,” because that’s all she’s allowed to say. Her butterfly glares at Noah’s, who just shrugs his wings, as if “What can I do?”

You know what it’s like to pack to move? That’s what Mrs. Noah and her daughters-in-law do. They can’t take everything, in fact, they can’t take very much at all, because there are going to be too many animals. And, of course, the animals aren’t part of their decision, either.

At least, they can decide what to throw away. Aunt Elizabeth’s silver pitcher? The art work the kids did back when they were in school? The worn and frazzled blanket that was a wedding gift from favorite Uncle Zeek? How do you live without all the things you’ve lovingly collected over the years?

And the tearful farewells. How do you explain to people that you’re going to go live in a houseboat with two² or seven³ of every kind of known animal and bird? How do you say goodbye to the neighbors who shared your children’s memories? The women who canned vegetables with you? Who shared cinnamon rolls with you? The friends you cooked spaghetti with for fund raisers?

And why should you, anyway, just because Mr. Noah decided he doesn’t like it here anymore! He was always complaining about the neighbors, how evil they were. What reason does he have to do this to you? Why can’t things be the way they were before? Why does he have to be different?

The night before they enter the ark, she lies in bed thinking. Her butterfly rests on the nightstand. They look at each other.

“It’s true,” she thinks to the winged creature, “those people have their faults.” She remembers times when even she walked away from her neighbors. The vase that disappeared from her living room. The children stomping through her vegetable garden. The fire in the tool shed. She shakes her head. “They’re the only neighbors we have.”

Her butterfly moves closer. “Agreed,” she “hears” in her head. “They haven’t been kind to their butterflies, either. Maybe …” but the rest hangs between them.

In the morning, a few raindrops fall. And bigger ones. And it rains. The animals have come aboard. The women have found places for whatever household goods they brought, and Noah pulls up the gangplank.

Mrs. Noah fumes. Well, there are chores to do, but between chores, she fumes. She remembers the painting by Picasso that he decided not to bring. Irreplaceable! How could he do that?

She thinks of her iris growing in such neat rows. Now the weeds will get them, and, after they leave the ark, it will take her a month of solid yard work to get them into shape. She thinks of her neighbor. They had such good times together. She sure wishes they could share a cup of coffee right now.

Her butterfly sometimes huddles with Noah’s. She wonders if they are communicating their own frustration. They are as helpless as she is.

It continues to rain. And it rains some more. It just doesn’t quit raining. Was maybe Noah right, that this flood is going to destroy everything in the world?

When the ark rises with the water, she is glad to be inside. Some light comes in from above the walls, where there is a space below the roof. She hopes the poles holding up the roof are strong enough.

# # #

After forty days and forty nights, it finally quits raining, Mrs. Noah looks out the window of the ark. There is absolutely nothing but water, as far as she can see. No TV antennas, no water towers, not even any mountains! Noah is right. God really has destroyed everything and everyone else. They are lucky to be alive. Noah is a good man. Sometimes he drives her nuts, but he is good and kind. What her husband said must have been the will of God.

When the water disappears and the mud dries up, she points out the rainbow to her butterfly. Noah’s winged insect also admires the symbol in the skies of God’s covenant with creation.

***

Notes:

1 No, they did not have appliances in Noah’s time or vacuum systems or big screen TVs. This story mixes the distant past with the present to illustrate the enormity of what was happening.

2 Genesis 6:19 tells Noah to bring two of every kind, male and female, to keep them alive.

3 Genesis 7:2-3: “Take with you seven pairs of every kind of clean animal, a male and its mate, and also seven pairs of every kind of bird, male and female, to keep their various kinds alive throughout the earth.”