There are many stories and teaching moments I would share, but the one that stands out most for me today is the following:
Some background first. Dad & Mom were living in Merced, California at the time. Although I cannot be certain I would estimate the time as during the mid 1960's. There was a ward in Merced but we were part of the Fresno Stake. At that time our Stake had the welfare assignment to tend a vineyard. The grapes grown were not for wine making but for raisins. The variety of grapes grown were Thompson seedless. The vines had to be carefully managed and at harvest the fruit had to be harvested by hand, gently reaching through the vines and leaves with one hand while maneuvering the the other hand holding a curved pruning knife into position to cut the main stem, releasing the grape bunch. The pruning knife was shaped like a mini-scimitar and was very sharp. The grape bunch was placed into a large stainless steel basin, which when full was then dumped onto a flat, brown, paper tray which was laid on the ground between the rows of grapes to dry in the sun.
Later each paper tray had to be flipped for even drying. Once the grapes were thoroughly dried, the paper trays were folded, rolled and placed onto a trailer. The trailer went to the center of the vineyard where the packages were unloaded into a bin which fed a machine which removed the stems, leaves and other detritus. After this separation the raisins went off to another location where they were cleaned and packaged for sale. During the winter the vines were pruned to ensure good grape production the next summer. All these activities were manned by members of the stake. The most challenging by far was the harvest.
After all that background, back to my story. During harvest, each Ward was assigned a certain number of 1/4 mile long row of grapes. From each Ward, Three to four families were assigned to each quarter mile row. On the assigned day our family arrived at the crack of dawn to begin work on our row, we discovered we were alone, none of the other assigned families made it. I still remember looking down that row of grape vines, it seemed to go on forever. Dad was not a quitter. He organized us, mobilized us, motivated us and we started down the row. At first it was not too bad. Sure it was dirty, back breaking work but the temperature was not too bad. As the sun came up, the temperature climbed,and by 10:30 am it was blistering hot. We were hot, dirty, thirsty and tired but only 3/4's done. Dad drove us, as only he could do, and we finished the row. We did it, we were ecstatic! We had done what had seemed impossible. We were hot, dirty, tired but happy that the ordeal was over with. Or so it seemed. As we were celebrating our triumph, Dad had gone to check on the other families in our Ward and their progress.
He had found another family who was in the same predicament we had been in; none of the other families had showed up for their assignment. They had been left by themselves to complete the 1/4 mile row of grapes. This family had toiled all that morning but unlike us they were only half finished with their row. Tough luck, I thought and was ready to go home. Not Dad, he decided that we should help them. He cajoled us, reasoned with us and threatened us, until we too turned around like a condemned prisoner to help the worn out family. As we joined them to help with the harvest, the family seemed rejuvenated and we who bent our will to assist this family also received renewed energy as we bent our backs into the task at hand. It was hard, hot, dirty work and seemed to go on forever. But then as other groups finished their assignments, they came over to help and soon we were done. In a little over an hour that 1/2 a row was done........it was a miracle.
There was no celebration this time. We were exhausted but a feeling of elation filled our souls. We dragged ourselves to our car, the a/c felt great and the bunches of grapes we saved as our reward for our labors tasted so very sweet. I learned many lessons that day. The value of hard work and perseverance, the true meaning of compassion, sacrifice and service. It was the best sermon Dad could have given.
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