A  BUNCH  OF  GRAPES 

A bunch of grapes hung there tight and together on the vine.

They enjoyed the sunshine  - and they enjoyed the rain.

They liked talking to each other - laughing - watching sunrises and sunsets.

They liked it when a sweet wind swung them back and forth in the breeze - hanging together in a rich looking cluster of grapes - like kids on swings in the park or on a ride in the amusement park.

Not a bad gig - this being a grape.

“Hey,” grapes would say to each other, “beats being a rock or a clump of hard dirt.”

Grapes liked it that people bragged about how great they were - and the great future ahead for grapes - some becoming grape jam but in this vineyard becoming the best wine money can buy.

And fine wine was in. It used to be that beer got the most cheers - but now it was wine. Even men toasted with it - clinking see-through wine glasses together during football games. Imagine that?  Football games…. Wine!

Time rolled on. The vineyard owner and his wife, along with their two teenage sons and two teenage daughters - and all their workers looked forward to harvest time.

It would be soon - very soon.

All the grapes from one end of the vineyard to the other end of the vineyard - from top to bottom - from row to row - if you listened carefully - after everyone went to bed - would be singing, “Soon and very soon….” Then they would croon in harmony as a background refrain: “Soon. Soon. Soon.”

Different grapes started wondering more and more - where they would end up.

Would it be at the table of a millionaire or some governor or  mayor or movie actress?

It was the first day of October - when they heard the news. It was harvest time. They heard the tractors getting closer and closer  - pulling wagons with neat bright white plastic boxes.

“Chug …. Chug …. Chug….

“Chug …. Chug …. Chug….

“Snip …. Snip …. Snip….

“Snip …. Snip …. Snip….”

That hurt - being a cluster of grapes - snipped off the vine with a sharp, sharp, silver cutter and then thrown into a big while plastic box. 

“Uh oh,”  one grape said. “It looks like a coffin to me.”

And then the lid was closed.

Then the tractor chuged, chugged,   four white plastic boxes over to a big truck  that already had about 15 plastic boxes of grapes on it.

When the truck was filled with these white plastic boxes of grapes it was brought to a big cinder block building with a big sign on the outside, “WINERY”.

The boxes were taken off the truck and stacked inside in a damp - cold - room.

The grapes were now quite nervous - wondering what was next.

They were being kept in the dark - and they wished for one more day - of sunrise and sunset.

The next day - it was well after sunrise - but they didn’t know that - they were poured out - all the grapes were poured out - into a big wooden round vat. It was called a wine press.

“Oh no,” different grapes thought, seeing this big wooden round press - like a plunger coming down on them. “We’re finished.”

The squeeze was on.

Every last drop of grape juice was squeezed out of them.

Then they were tasted, tested, blended, mixed with add ons and all that.

Then they were put in barrels and lined up in storage.

And all was silent.

It was time for them to ferment - to become wine.

Time rolled on.

From time to time they could hear barrels being moved.

They had aged.

How do I look? They wondered.

Then they were bottled and labeled and shipped.

Once more the question came up: “Where will I end up?”

Fast forward - it was years now - since all this happened - but different wines were bragging where they ended up.

They bragged about being at weddings  and banquets. They bragged about being wined and dined.

But there was this one bottle - that was very quiet.

And everyone wondered why.

Then this wine told those close by.

I have been chosen to become altar wine.

I have been chosen to go into a chalice at Mass.

I have been chosen to become the Blood of Jesus at Mass.

I have been chosen to bring people together in Holy Communion.

And the others were amazed - this was Hall of Fame stuff - in the world of wine - but not everyone knew this - but the different types of wine knew.

And you could hear at times - wines singing on the vine, "Holy, Holy, Holy, some day - some of us - will become the blood of Christ. Amen."