The Dove Brings Hope
Shem lay slumped against the wall, wondering whether the sea would ever stop its tossing. It was not even so bad now, but forty days and nights in the ark were enough to make any man sick of the water. He roused himself and stood, making his way out of the sheep's pen where he had spent the night helping with a lambing. He patted the newborn lamb's nose affectionately, deciding that was the only joy he could get out of being in such close quarters with so many animals: he could be beside each of them, learning their ways, meeting a new species each day. He loved each one of them, even the monkeys, who often teased him and threw bits of food at his face.
It was growing light out; Shem could see by the cracks of sun peeking through the open hatch to the top deck. He went up, yawning and trying to ignore the gentle rocking of the ark to which he was still unaccustomed. Following him was his dog, Ido, who barked playfully at the dawn. Shem patted his head and looked out over the endless waters, waiting for the sun to rise. Somehow, he felt very alone out on the sea, even with his family below and God above. There was not another soul on the earth, nobody to see the ark, nobody to laugh at the menagerie of animals held below.
Shem heard a cough behind him, and turned to see his father lumbering out on deck. Noach was a strong man for his age, but today he seemed to slump in despair. In his large hand he gently held a dove, the bird snuggling up against his fingers and cooing contentedly. Shem smiled at the lovely bird, but his father seemed grim.
"We shall see if there is land," Noach said, taking the bird to the side of the ark and opening his hands. "If God is held to his promise."
The dove, pleased to be free, fluttered her wings and set off into the sky, flying gracefully into the breeze. Shem watched until she was out of sight, before looking back at his father musingly.
"And if she doesn't return?" he asked.
"Then there is land," Shem's father said simply.
Shem wanted to ask something more, but suddenly he heard the trumpeting of an elephant below, an elephant enraged. Noach turned to him with a raised eyebrow.
"Better help your brothers with the animals. I suppose Ham has not given the poor elephants the proper food again."
Shem nodded, rushing back down to the lower deck, where the elephants were kept. They were a troublesome lot, but gentle creatures once you got to know them. He saw Ham at once, his staff in hand, beating the mother elephant's head furiously. Shem's anger rose at once, and he lunged towards his brother, snatching the staff and snapping it over his knee. Ham turned at him in fury.
"Let me do my duty, brother!" he snapped, shoving Shem back. "Abba assigned me to care for this deck."
"Abba told me to help you, and it is evident you cannot do your job," Shem replied, running his hand down the elephant's trunk to calm her. "What sort of man are you, beating this poor beast?"
"She wouldn't eat!"
"Because you gave her the wrong food!" Shem replied, leading the elephant to her proper feeding trough. "Anyhow, you have no right to harm her. We are to protect the animals, not kill them all through cruelty."
He was especially peeved at his brother because this was not the first time he had caught Ham doing such a thing. His youngest brother was not so kind to the beasts as the other two, nor so ready to help them when they were in need.
"I'm sick of taking care of filthy beasts," Ham grumbled, kicking the gopher wood wall. "God has forsaken us. We are abandoned to die in this accursed ark."
"No, we are not. We have been safe so far," Shem said, smiling as the elephant's trunk curled around him. "We are the last people on earth, and still you complain? We will come to land soon."
His hopeful words masked the anxiety in his heart. He did not know; none of them knew. They could drift forever until they starved. They could be sunk in a moment, anything could happen. It was not unreasonable for Ham to feel despair.
"Abba's mad," Ham muttered, before stalking off.
Over the next few hours, Shem began to agree. His father stayed on the top deck, waiting, watching for the dove, while the family performed their duties below. Morning grew to the heat of the afternoon, the sun beating down on the ship and making it stifling inside. Evening came, and Shem went to feed the animals again. He found his wife Zalbeth with the lions, playing with a young cub while the lioness watched lazily.
"The dove has not come back?" Zalbeth asked, looking up at him with the sparkle still in her eyes.
"No," Shem replied, shrugging. "Abba has not eaten this day either."
"He's worried."
"Of course he is, we all are. It has been many days, and the flood does not seem to be receding."
"You are not worried, are you, Shem?" Zalbeth asked, looking at him anxiously.
"Of course not," Shem said quickly, but his perceptive wife could see his fear. She handed him the little cub, who growled playfully and nipped at Shem's arm. He ran a hand along the furry head.
"See, even in the midst of all the destruction there is new life," Zalbeth said with a slight smile. "God has not abandoned us, Shem. We will come to land soon, and then we will build anew. We'll have a new house, better than the last, and more land than before. We'll have children, Shem!"
"Of course, Zalbeth," Shem said, trying to feel her optimism.
"Don't tease me, Shem. You'll see," Zalbeth laughed.
Shem did not see. Days passed, and still the dove did not return. Ham murmured against their father. Mother was silent, but even in her eyes there was doubt. Yefet, Shem's older brother and the quietest of the three, went about his work tensely. They all went about their work tensely, except for Zalbeth, who seemed happier than ever. Shem could not understand it.
One day Shem awoke with a strange feeling in his heart. Things were going to change. Today was the day when their fate would be chosen. He went about his duties as usual, tending the animals, but he was preoccupied. He found himself drawn to the upper deck, where his father was, to look out over the sea and hope for the dove's return. Noach said nothing as his son approached behind him, and Shem did not prod him, only leaning against the railing beside him. Father and son watched the water for a long time, and then they watched the sky. It was so blue this morning, a turquoise shade that seemed perfect. In fact, the entire world seemed perfect, solitary and covered only with nature.
"If the dove does not return, Abba, there is land," Shem said, trying to comfort both his father and himself. "There must be."
"Unless it fell into the sea," Noach replied, his bushy brows coming together as he squinted out at the waters. "I can see nothing."
Shem squinted as well, but there was nothing but the gentle waves rocking the boat, and the fluffy clouds floating in the sky. Suddenly he glimpsed a greyish blob against the sky, gliding in the wind. He held his breath, hope starting a spark in his chest as the figure came closer. Then he cried out, simultaneous with his father as the dove's shape became evident, sweeping down towards the ark.
"It has not found land," Shem said, almost miserable. "What was this supposed to mean, Abba? What sign is this?"
"No, look!" his father replied, as the dove fluttered into his outstretched hand.
For clutched in the bird's beak was a twig, still green and alive, an olive twig. It could not have been picked very long ago. Shem's eyes widened, and at once his thought was for the family below. Running to the hatch, he nearly fell down to the next deck, shouting in jubilance. His mother came running, as did his brothers and their wives as he blurted out the joyous news. And last of all came Zalbeth, smiling beautifully as he ran and threw his arms about her.
"We're saved!" he cried, sobbing tears of joy into her shoulder. "God has kept his promise! There is land! The dove has brought back an olive branch!"
His wife laughed. "I told you so," she said calmly. "God would not forsake us. And we will have a home, and children, and our descendants will carry this story with them until the end of days."
Shem could say nothing as his family rejoiced around him, for he knew that this was indeed one of the greatest days, to be remembered for millennia.