Half a Grape

Web Posted: September 14, 2004

"Students, in the course of their formation, must let the gritty reality of this world into their lives, so they can learn to feel it, think about it critically, respond to its suffering and engage it constructively. They should learn to perceive, think, judge, choose and act for the rights of others, especially the disadvantaged and the oppressed."

Inspired by these words of Fr. Kolvenbach, Superior General of the Society of Jesus, I answered a call to immerse myself for a semester in the lives of the poor of El Salvador. While waking up to the harsh realities of injustice, I was challenged to embrace our mission to see the world from the perspective of the poor and to join them in solidarity. I did not leave El Salvador with gloom or despair, but rather with transforming images of love, joy, friendship, and mostly hope.

The image of a half a grape explains it all.

Eight-year-old Jasmin, one of my dearest friends in La Javia, a small village in the mountains, has dark black hair that is always a mess with bangs that permanently stand up straight. It seems that Jasmin is always dirty…even right after her bath she somehow manages to become covered with dirt again. Jasmin has a quiet voice and she greeted me every Monday morning with a huge hug and a hand eager to guide me to where I need to be.

One afternoon on our way to a soccer game as we were bumping along in the back of a pick up truck piled full of giggling girls with excited energy, the wind blowing through our hair making our eyes water, Jasmin received a grape. It was a big, round, purple grape that was sweating in the heat. As I watched her intently poke the grape with her grimy fingers I wondered what she was doing.

After a few moments, however, she stared up at me with her big dark eyes and long eyelashes and holding her grimy hand out to me she placed half of the grape in my hand. She had perfectly divided the grape in half to share with me. There was a moment of hesitation wondering where those hands had been and whether or not I should eat it. How silly of me, of course I should eat it! As I chewed the half grape I savored the juiciness, the miracle, the sweetness, the sacredness.

Who thinks to share one lonely grape? Who takes the effort to break a grape in half? The people of El Salvador do. Jasmin my eight-year old friend with hair that is always a mess and hands that are always grimy taught me what it means to share, to live, to love. I always knew that you learn the most from children by watching how they how they play, embrace, touch, give, smile, love. Jasmin is the best professor I have had yet and I know I still do not quite understand the lesson that she continues to teach me; a lesson about having nothing but a grape and yet still being willing to share selflessly.

The fruit of the vine, the work of human hands. Jasmin is my hope for La Javia, my hope for El Salvador.

As you encounter each person today seek the child filled with wonder and awe beneath each of our roles and responsibilities. As we continue to celebrate Mission week, savor a grape and savor the sweetness of answering the call to offer all you have to others.