A Message From Shelly Cook — 11/24/25

Gratitude Grows Slowly

This week, the vineyard feels a little quieter. The vines have surrendered their leaves, the wind has softened, and the Blue Ridge seems to exhale a deep breath with us. It’s as if God Himself whispers, “Slow down—there’s beauty here in the resting.”

Reitano Vineyards

I used to think seasons like this were empty. Winter always felt like a pause, a waiting room, a place without movement. But vineyards taught me something different. The quiet seasons are not wasted… they’re working. Roots grow deeper when no one is watching. Strength forms underground long before the grapes ever show.

And maybe that’s why Thanksgiving stirs something in us. It makes us pay attention to the roots—the things that truly matter. Family. Friends. Faith. The small moments that don’t look spectacular, yet carry the weight of love.

This week at Reitano, we open our doors like a table being set for loved ones.

We’ll be here Wednesday until 6 PM, then we’ll close the gates on Thanksgiving Day so our team can sit with their own families, fill their own tables, and rest—the way the vines rest.

Then, when the leftovers are put away and the laughter from inside the houses spills into the cold air, we’ll gather again. Friday and Saturday we’ll stay open until 9 PM, and the vineyard will fill with sounds that remind us joy doesn’t take a holiday—Shae Parker on Friday, Brennan Edwards on Saturday, and Chris Daily on Sunday. Just simple gifts: a glass by the fire, a familiar song, a slow evening with people we care about.

As we enter this season, I’m believing that God is growing things here we can’t yet see. In our vineyard. In our teams. In our community. And even in the events we’re preparing for the months ahead—nights of laughter like Dueling Pianos in January, and evenings of mystery and fun like our Valentine’s Murder Mystery Dinner. These aren’t just “events.” They’re moments of connection. Roots deepening. And if you feel led to join us, you can reserve your seat anytime at our website. Like pulling up a chair before the celebration begins.

I’m thankful for all of it.

For slow growth.

For quiet roots.

For the way God turns ordinary soil and small starts into something that nourishes people.

May your home—and our vineyard—be filled with gratitude this week.

Not loud, not hurried, but deep like the roots that wait patiently for spring.

Rooted in love,

Shelly Cook