Long Livers and Big Hearts

I was just sitting here thinking about Noah. I don't know if he had a last name, but I guess in those days, people didn't have last names. My little great-grandson is named Noah, but my Noah has a last name. But I hope he doesn't live as long as the Biblical Noah lived.

The original Noah lived for a very long time. In fact, Noah lived for nine-hundred and fifty years! Can you imagine writing in your diary for nine-hundred and fifty years? Without a diary, it would be hard to remember what happened five hundred years in the past. Or even two-hundred years in the past when you were seven-hundred and fifty years old. Can you imagine getting all those birthday presents through the years?

My mother only lived to be ninety-seven. My father only saw ninety years of earth-life. That was pretty good for these days.

I went to a style show last week. This was a production put on for us old ladies. One of the models was one-hundred years old! She walked around our tables ( where we sat munching on decadent goodies), showing off her lovely outfit. She didn't look a day over ninety! Truthfully, she really looked awfully good! I can only imagine what Mrs. Noah must have looked like.

But Noah must have had a very big heart, and loved her all through those years, I suppose. But I think she might have raised a little Cain herself when Noah imbibed the homemade wine and staggered off to bed. Well, nobody's perfect, I always say.

I've always said that if I was a Sunday School teacher, I wouldn't even last one Sunday.