Believe it or not, there is only one bottle of peach flavored sparkling grape juice in the world. The bottle was created one fine day in a factory somewhere off the coast of some river. From there, this grape juice, or PFSGJ, was taken by truck to a heimishe store on a busy street somewhere in a busy Jewish neighborhood.
Meanwhile, it's been a hectic day for Mrs. Fefferkorn. Her food processor broke halfway through making her potato kugel. Her two year old, shmuly, fell off his chair and got a nose bleed. Her four year old, rivky, not to be out done, had a tantrum over the fact that shmuly got a Popsicle and she didn't. At the same time, the guy from the dry-cleaners came to pick up some stuff, the UPS guy had a delivery which needed to be signed for. Both phone lines were ringing. Just as the noise reached a crescendo, 8 year old Yanky pipes up "ma! I'm going away for shabbos, remember? I need to bring a present to my hosts!"
Mrs. Fefferkorn, being the true eishes chayil that she was, kissed shmuly on the cheek, told rivky to stop howling, dumped the clothes in the hands of the bewildered dry cleaner guy, scribbled something for the UPS dude, and handed Yanky some cash to run to the grocery store on the corner and pick up a bottle of sparkling grape juice.
Perhaps if Shmuly had chosen some other time to get his nose bleed, and Rivky had chosen some other time for her tantrum, and the dry cleaners guy and the UPS guy had missed the light at the corner and been delayed by a few minutes, the mistake would not have happened. But it did. And now the world is paying the price. You see, in her great haste to solve multiple crisis at once, Mrs. Fefferkorn made a vital mistake. She sent Yanky for some sparkling grape juice without specifying which flavor.
So yanky went to the grocery store, determined to buy some sparkling grape juice as a gift. The storekeeper, a normally erliche yid, who would never cheat a young boy intentionally, saw a loophole in this boy's naivety. "Aha!" he thought to himself. "The boy didn't specify a flavor!" And that is how Yanky Feffercorn came to be the proud owner of PFSGJ.
Yanky carried the bottle home carefully. Surely his mother would shep nachas at her little son's independence. He showed his mother the newly aquired bottle of PFSGJ. Yet he couldn't understand why her face fell.
Left with no choice, Mrs. Fefferkorn sent the bottle of PFSGJ with Yanky to his friend Shimmy Huffenenmyer. Yanky presented the present to a gracious Mrs. Huffenmyer, who just barely managed to conceal her disdain. Mrs. Huffenmyer buried the bottle in the back of her cabinet, and forgot it was there. Until the day that 12 year old Yenty Huffenmyer reminded her mommy that she needed a gift for her friend's mommy, because she was going to her for shabbos. With an evil grin, Mrs. Huffenmyer wrapped up the PFSGJ and passed it onto Peshy Finkelstein's mommy.
Mrs. Finkelstein placed the bottle in that back of her cabinet, as well as her memory. She forgot about it so completely, that it remained in the back of the cabinet until Purim. You see, Mrs. Finkelstein is a very organized person. But somehow, she miscalculated the number of cleverly themed shalach manos she needed. And that's how it came to be, that she rummaged in the cabinet and found the bottle of PFSGJ. She put it in a fancy little bag with a box of hazelnut flavored presidor wafers, tied it with a color-coordinated ribbon, and dumped it, as graciously as she could, in the hands of the little girl at the door: the daughter of her old neighbors, the Fefferkorns.
And that, my friends, is how the cycle completes itself.
And so, for years now, the bottle of PFSGJ has made the rounds of Jewish homes across America. Nobody drinks it, why, that would be a disturbance of our entire system! So next time someone passes the bottle on to you, do not despair. Recognize your vital role in the chain of peach flavored mesorah.
Just smile. And pass it on.