Barry's Ark

Hear the story read by the author.

In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm. On a recent Sunday, Normal was battered by a ferocious wind and rain storm. The weather couldn’t dampen Pastor Henry O’Donnell’s spirits, though. It was a very special day for him. A reporter from the district newsletter was coming to do a profile of the church. They had done one on his old seminary classmate Pastor Robert Sanchez’s church last year with a picture of Robert looking oh-so-smug leaning against his classic 1970 Aston Martin. Henry was going to have his picture taken holding his Gibson Les Paul electric guitar. Sanchez wasn’t the only cool pastor in the district.

When Pastor O’Donnell arrived at the church he discovered head usher Ralph Billings standing over a large, muddy puddle forming at the entrance to the parking lot. Branches and debris had clogged a drainage pipe, Ralph informed him.

“See if you can fix it,” O’Donnell said. “A reporter’s coming today and we want the place to look good. When Henry got inside he told church secretary Tammy Billings, Ralph’s wife, to let him know when the reporter arrived. In the meantime he went into the restroom to fix his windblown hair.

When he came out, Tammy was waiting for him. “I’ve got good news and bad news,” she said. “The reporter’s here. But her car stalled in the puddle in the parking lot.”

The color drained from Henry’s face. He ran out to assess the situation. The “puddle” was now more like a small pond. And in the middle of the pond was a subcompact car mired to the base of its doors. And in the driver’s seat of the car was a very anxious looking middle aged woman.

Henry waded out to the car, ignoring the mud that filled his shoes. He stuck his hand in the open window. “Pastor Henry O’Donnell,” he said.

“Miriam Smith,” the woman replied.

Henry gave Miriam his best “don’t worry” smile and pulled Ralph aside. “We’ve got to get her out of there.”

“I tried pushing the car out,” Ralph told him. “The wheels are buried in mud. Maybe she could climb out the window.”

“I’m not having her wade through this!” Henry shot back.

“Maybe we could carry her.”

Henry thought about it. They only had a few minutes before the service was supposed to start. There was no time to waste. He explained the plan to Miriam and she was game. She shimmied through her car window, one arm around Henry’s shoulder and one around Ralph’s. They made a kind of seat for her with their hands and carried her to relatively dry ground.

“Thank you,” she said, looking a little embarrassed.

“You’re welcome,” Henry replied. “Ralph will keep working on getting your car out. You just enjoy the service and we’ll do the interview and photo afterward.”

Miriam headed into the sanctuary and Henry rushed back to his office. He exchanged his soaked shoes and socks with a pair of old running shoes that was in the clothing donation box. They looked funny with his suit, but he figured he could stay behind the pulpit most of the service.

Meanwhile, the storm had given Sunday school teacher Karen Winslow an idea for a fun project for her preschool class known as the “Guppies.” First, she gathered the kids in a circle and told them the story of Noah’s ark. Then, she told them the class was going to build its own ark out of that children’s craft staple, Popsicle sticks. Normally, any Guppies class project was an adventure due to the imaginative design variations little Mary Boyer always conceived. But this one went surprisingly well, perhaps because Mary glued her sleeve to the table early on and Karen took her time freeing the little girl.

Outside, the puddle had grown from a pond to a small lake and Ralph decided he’d better get that blockage out of the drain pipe. He got a shovel from the tool shed and waded in. He stabbed the shovel into the packed debris over and over, using all his weight.

And then suddenly on the fourteenth hit the blockage crumbled. Water gushed into the pipe and then sprayed out into a runoff ditch a dozen feet away. But the sudden deluge was too much for the ditch. The water overflowed and spilled down the gently sloping lawn toward the church building.

“Uh oh,” Ralph thought.

Inside, services were coming to an end and the Guppies were finishing their project. The Popsicle stick ark was impressive - over three feet long and a foot wide. Karen set it on the floor and had the kids fill it with every animal toy and stuffed animal they could find.

“Mrs. Winslow,” Sierra Smith said, tugging on her pant leg, “all the stuffed animals under the window are wet.

The classroom was in the basement level of the church with a couple of small windows up by the ceiling. Karen was shocked to see muddy water seeping in around the edge of one of those windows and running down the wall. Even more alarming, all that was visible through the glass was more water. The window was completely submerged.

“Okay, kids, line up by the door,” Karen ordered. She had no sooner wrangled the Guppies into line when there was a loud crack and the flooded window gave out. Water poured into the room, spilling out across the carpet. “Go, go,” Karen shouted, “get upstairs!”

“Mrs. Winslow, what about Barry?” Sierra asked as they jogged down the hall. Barry the Bunny was the class’s pet rabbit. Karen had completely forgotten about him. She turned back to rescue the poor animal only to discover water was now flowing out of the class room door.

“Barry’s okay,” Mary called out. “I put him in the ark.”

And just at that moment the ark floated out of the classroom, Barry’s head poking out and his nose twitching in curiosity. The muddy flow pushed it down the hall away from the cheering kids.

Upstairs, the service was over and Tammy Billings was giving Miriam a tour of the church while Pastor O’Donnell greeted the exiting congregation. Tammy and Miriam were coming down the stairs at the far end of the hall when the flood waters rushed up to meet them, carrying Barry the Bunny in his Popsicle stick ark. Both Tammy and Miriam were too stunned to speak. All Miriam could think to do was snap a photo of the strange sight.

A few minutes later Pastor O’Donnell found them. “I’m ready to do the interview - oh my,” he said, noticing the flooded hallway. Visions of fundraisers and work parties flashed through his head. The next few months were going to be a pain.

But Henry kept his composure enough to give Miriam a glowing interview and have his picture taken in the sanctuary holding his prized guitar like a pudgy, self-conscious Jimmy Page.

When the next issue of the district newsletter arrived a few weeks later, Henry opened it excitedly. But to his shock, rather than a picture of him with his guitar, the story was topped by a shot of Barry and his ark, along with the headline, “Normal Church Finds Unique Lesson in Bible Story.”

The phone rang. It was Pastor Sanchez. “Upstaged by a rabbit,” Sanchez said sympathetically. Then he laughed and laughed.