GRAPEVINE

Benjamin Franklin once said "We hear of the conversion of water into wine at the marriage in Cana as of a miracle. But this conversion is, through the goodness of God, made every day before our eyes. Behold the rain which descends from heaven upon our vineyards; there it enters the roots of the vines, to be changed into wine; a constant proof that God loves us, and loves to see us happy. "


I've been doing a little bit of research and a great deal of thinking. The research I did on grapevines(don't use this for scientific credibility as I may have pulled this from a junk source) and the thinking I did was on people and how they are seen with respect to what they want from their lives, what they believe they are expected to produce in their lives, and what it is that others expect from them. And though the quote above is about God's love for people, it can be applied equally for how it is that we view each other. Because we love other people, and we love to see them happy as well. And if we fall short of understanding what it is we are expected to achieve in our lives, maybe that is due to our inability to understand what and when it is expected to be provided, under what conditions we expect it of others, and what they intend to do with it as a testament to their labors.
Grapevines are a rather tricky things to make in the first place and take a great deal of time and effort to nurture before they can give what it is they are intended to produce. They require a massive expenditure of effort from the very first moment they are required to grow, and they take in and assimilate everything that is given to them. Both the good and the bad. When they are small, they are carefully placed in soil that will be as much a part of them as their fruit. They are unique to their environment and nothing will change this. A good vintner will expect to tend to grape vines for ten to fifteen years, constantly pruning the branches down and allowing the roots to grow deep before allowing the vine to flourish. Nothing is expected of these vines but to develop the roots from which they will draw from for the rest of their lives.
This is very much like how parents tend to their children and how we, as the vintners, must see the roots of a family. It is for this that people are not expected to flourish into their own at this point. They do not, and are not allowed to attain their height and fullness. They grow deep, and removing a grapevine to flourish elsewhere in a place it is not accustomed or understood is tantamount to total failure. Your roots are just that. Roots. They bind and hold the vine as strongly to the earth as the values of people do to the family that raised them from seedlings. Remove it, and you will kill it. Change it, and you will kill it. Forget it's importance, and you will kill it. That's why good vineyards are sold to a vintner willing to assume the land rather than transplant the vines. And much like people, it is irresponsible to believe that it can be done any other way. Bring the vintner to the vines, not the vine to the vintner.
One of the hardest things to teach a person, and a vintner for that matter, is that when the vine is assumed for the purpose of making wine, that it is the responsibility of that vintner to provide the necessary components to achieve the best grapes. It is not the job of the vine at this point to provide. It has already done what was expected of it so far by growing the roots to hold the fruit. In order to maximize the height and potential of the vine, the soil it is provided and the water that it is given must be balanced. The vine can do but one thing, and that is to grow to produce grapes. People, as well, are often expected at the beginning of their relationships to believe that their sole purpose is to make the grapes of their relationships just as grapevines do. The fault however is that people are never told that they are required to make the grapes, but it is the responsibility of the vintner to be expected to PRODUCE wine from them. And so many simply mature with the feeling that their sole purpose is to making the grapes. A vintner who fails to do this will wonder why the vines are shriveled and twisted or fail to produce the amount of fruit that he wants. And it is people, like grape vines, who fail to see the relationship responsibility here. It is the vine that produces the grapes, but it is the attention to detail of the vintner that determines the amount and taste of the fruit, not to mention the greatness of the wine. I might also mention here, that it is very common for people to assume that it is their job to produce the grapes as their primary task in life, and nothing could be further from the truth. A person nurtured, either well or irresponsibly, believes incorrectly that their job is to make grapes. But it isn't. The goal is to produce WINE. Grapes are simply half the task. It is then, again, the responsibility of the vintner to harvest the fruit he has grown, and turn it into the wine. And the wine is the measure of your diligence to the tending of your vines. People are no different. People are the result of what you put into them. If you have fertilized the soil around your vines with less than is needed by making the ground too acidic, or watered it with less than it required, or salted it with tears, the fruit harvested will be sparse, and bitter. And at this point it is very easy for the vintner to blame the vine for its failure to produce the grapes he wanted without ever giving a whit to his responsibility to that fruit in the first place. Even worse, is to have the vine feel as though this is the final measure of their worth; that this is end goal of the vine as far as the vintner is concerned and that failed harvest comes down to nothing more than the weight of the bucket. So much like many people and their belief that the lives of their partners ends when they have been provided with what they want without truly understanding what to do with it.
A good wine, is the measure of a superb vintner. It is the culmination of the understanding of its nurtured past, the responsibility for its growth and maturity, and the responsible diligence to the final result that makes a vintner truly respected by his peers. It is this constant symbiotic practice of give and take by both the vintner and the vine, in response to his labors that will create the greatest of wines. And in the case of people, the greatest of relationships.
Our lives, and everything we do within it, are so much like a single grapevine in a vineyard. And what we expect to achieve within our lives has little to do with how we wish it to be, and more often than not, a direct result of the labor expended to maintain it. What a sad commentary on the value of ourselves and the expectations of relationships to sell ourselves short while still being expected to produce wine quality grapes regardless of what is supplied as nurturing. Simply going from season to season eking out the labor of making grapes with grim resolution only to find that there will be no wine made at all. The potential of the greatest of fruits left to spoil on the vine.
Why is it that those who exact such refined grapes to make wine in the beginning seem to have no understanding of what goes into making one? Then, having been shown how, bitch about the quality of the grape as being insubstantial. And then, even if their efforts DID manage to harvest enough grapes to fill the bottles to his liking, would fall only to the lips of a person who wouldn't know good wine from bad, nor had the taste or affinity for the rewards of fine wine in the first place? And still the grapevine feels as though it did what it was expected with what it was given and still fell short of the potential.
The saddest part of this is that when the vineyard is no longer appreciated for its fruit, it is either ignored as being insufficient to make wine, or left to fallow in the field with the impression that it would be worthless to another vintner. The perception continuing to grow that it was the vine that did not live up to its end of the bargain. Ironically, a vine not worth the effort to make wine from, is rarely sold. It is simply kept. Even if another vintner DID want it, it would be advertised as "sour grapes" and advertised as such to even the lowest bidder. This may seem as a rather sad comparison, but I have a story to tell you that may give very willing and able grapevines a well deserved ray of sunshine.
Once upon a time In Bordeux, France there was a great wine maker named Gasteau. He was a very rich and powerful man and was well known for his ability to grow some of the greatest grapes in all of France. The wine he produced spread from table to table until he was considered one of the greatest winemakers of the region. Gasteau had four sons. And while three of them travelled in the same circles as that of their famous father, the youngest, Bastion, never felt he had the time to waste on the fine parties and gatherings. Instead, he spent his time carefully tending to the fields of his fathers vineyards. Truth be told, it was actually the labors of Bastion that perpetuated the notoriety of his father.
The years went by, and, season after season, Gasteau earned more and more recognition for the wine. The three older brothers, feeling no need to tend to the fields either, continued to gain worth of their own until they, too, were considered the most desired by young ladies wishing to marry. And all the while Bastion toiled in the fields tending to his father's grapes until it was assumed that Gasteau had but only three sons.
One season, Gasteau fell ill and it was obvious that he would not last to see the next summer. Gasteau gathered his sons about his bed and explained his wishes for the chateau and the vineyards surrounding it. He had become a very rich man and there was plenty to be to be shared by three sons. Well....four.
The greatest of the vineyards producing the best grapes was given to his eldest son, Louis. He beamed with pride through his sadness at the impending loss of his father, but consoled himself with the thought that he would still be very well off for the remainder of his life with a vineyard of such size, never once realizing that he would need to tend to it.
His second and third sons, Phillipe and Jean, would take the middle vineyards, leaving Bastion with the chateau and a very small hill on which to continue to provide for himself, but nowhere near to the amount of his other brothers. It was explained to Bastion that he had obviously no need to expect any more as he was not accustomed to the lifestyle that had, indeed been afforded him, but that he felt no need to embrace. His field was the least productive of any of the other three, but would still provide for him. Maybe not the greatest grapes of the estate, but enough to live on. The other brothers pitied Bastion's obvious paltry holdings compared to their own but not one went so far as to suggest a more fair division if it meant they would receive less.
Gasteau died in deep winter and was attended by all four brothers. What followed were countless gatherings of bereavement that, to Bastion, seemed to be further and further from consolation and more as a venue for securing the position their father had once held for themselves.
Spring came early and Bastion immediately went to work re tending the last of his vineyards while the brothers saw fit to end their time of mourning and enter into another season of entertainment. There was, after all, significant holdings from their father's passing and a years lost harvest could be afforded. But Bastion, now with less time to expend on the fields of his brothers, redoubled his efforts on his own small vineyard.
Season after season Bastion diligently labored in his fields tending the vineyards until the wine he produced became more and more popular. Not much at first, but enough to allow him to continue as he knew he should. The other three brothers produced no wine that season, and instead, explained that they were "resting" their fields. The vines shriveled in some places from lack of water, and others grew twisted trying to fight the lack of nourishment to the soil. Vines that once grew lush and full suddenly went twisting and turning of their own accord until it was impossible to harvest for that year. Nor the following year, nor the year after that.
Bastion's vineyard however, regardless of its small size, began spreading from one table to another as the reputation grew. Each season becoming more impressive than the last as his labors to produce wine worthy of true notoriety continued. The three older brother's continued in the same way they had always done until they had expended all of their father's holdings and had reduced themselves to the point of poverty. Having no other recourse, they attempted to sell their vineyards to anyone who would have them. But the vines had completely overrun the arbors and most vines simply produced blackened grapes that turned to powder at the slightest touch. No one would have anything to do with such worthless vines. The brothers eventually fled the region hoping to elude their creditors and the fields were left to anyone stupid enough to try and risk saving them. To which Bastion quickly volunteered. The fields slowly recovered under Bastion's efforts until they again regained their original splendor. The vines were carefully tended and cared for just as diligently as he had to his small, lesser, vineyard. Each season producing more and more favor among even more people and allowing him to continue to devote his attention to more of the fields. Bastion continued until every field was back to the grandeur that they had once been. And his ability to do so grew until finally it reached the grand tables of the French monarchy.
It was then that Bastion became the greatest vintner in all of Bordeaux and was sought as a husband by some of the wealthiest of French aristocracy. He politely refused explaining that his true love was for a woman who would be willing to tend to his vineyards as he would. They all graciously accepted his refusal as soon as it was understood that this man, regardless of his greatness as a vintner, had very little understanding of how to love a woman. They satisfied themselves with his ability to provide the greatest of wine to them and he returned to Bordeaux. He briefly courted a young woman from the north of France. In a small quiet ceremony in the front of his small chateau he married the woman whom he believed had everything within her to become the greatest of loves in his entire life. The daughter of a vintner who, for all of her great beauty, saw very little need to do anything other than to tend to the love of her life as her father had taught her to care for his vines.