When the Floods Came

Sophie had always loved the river that ran behind their house. It was where she and her friends swam, fished and played on long summer afternoons. It was where they’d watched the occasional storm roll across the wide sky, watched lightning split the clouds, and heard the rain drum on the roof. She was eight when she learned the flood story. It was the story her grandparents told on nights when they’d have a storm.

The year she turned ten, the rains came. A deluge that lasted days, everything around them soaked through, muddy and waterlogged. The river grew swollen, grey, angry, and then, it burst its banks.

“Pack everything, we have to go!” Her mum called out, grabbing Sophie and her little brother Tom.

The water had entered the house, filling it almost waist-deep, and rising quickly. They had to leave everything behind - the furniture, the photo albums, the clothes, the books. Abandon the place she’d grown up in.

Their new home was a shelter for victims of the flood, other families devastated by the loss of their homes, their possessions and their memories. There were old people, families, children – all in one large room with different coloured mattresses on the floor. There were hardly any toilets, and what was worse, hardly any water. Sophie and Tom were confused, cold and scared. Tom would cling to Sophie and they’d sleep on the mattress that was closest to the wall.

“It will be alright”, their mother consoled them in her arms. “We’ll find somewhere else to live, somewhere dry and safe.”

But the words were hollow, and Sophie knew they had nowhere to go. Every day, they’d listen to the radio broadcasts and the news of communities like theirs destroyed by the flood.

Days passed into weeks. Their story wasn’t unique and they were soon forgotten by the world. Their lives had become a nightmare of discomfort, disease and separation.

Their days were marked by the different activities the shelter arranged for the children to keep them busy, but one day, Sophie saw something that she knew she’d never forget.

She and Tom were outside, enjoying the warm sun, when they saw a group of people walk out of a van. The people were dressed in green, and they had a lot of equipment with them.

“What are they doing?” Tom asked.

“I think they are cleaning the river,” Sophie answered, watching as the group spread out and started to pick up rubbish.

Their actions gave her a glimmer of hope. If they could clean the river, maybe it would return to the way it used to be. She vowed to help in her small way, to take better care of the environment they lived in, to do everything she could to stop the floods from coming again. She told Tom they could do that, just like the people in green.

Sophie now studies environmental sciences at university, she goes across the country giving talks about her experience, and her passion for the environment has become her driving force.

It’s been over two decades since the flood. The river has become cleaner now, the water less murky and more transparent. It’s the same river that she played in all those years ago. It’s the same river that burst into their lives, changing them forever.

Sophie knows that the floods will come again. She knows that it’s inevitable. But what she also knows is that there is always hope - hope in people who care about their environment, hope in those who take steps, small or large, to make a difference.